


Evolution of Chaos

by Quiet_Man



Category: Jurassic Park (1993), Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic Park Series - Michael Crichton
Genre: Battlefield, Chaos Theory, Drugs, F/M, Helicopters, Military Backstory, Raptors, Spinosaurus Aegypticus, T-Rex - Freeform, pterodactyls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 13:43:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 61,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6612931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Man/pseuds/Quiet_Man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While "playing" with DNA, They had been filming the show for the Visitor’s Centre's ride showing John Hammond pricking his finger and a  drop of blood ended up in the primordial "soup".  Imagine the possibilities!  Could the Might of the advanced military eradicate this new menace?  Can mankind survive the rebirth of the greatest predator to ever set foot on the earth?  Can technology win over the shear will to survive?  Brother and sister duo Tim and Lex Murphy may be our only hope. Remember the words that Alan Grant spoke. "Were it not for the cataclysmic events that overtook them, it is entirely possible that raptors rather than humans would have become the dominant species on this planet!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evolution of Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Jurassic Park  
> Evolution of Chaos  
> Dedicated to the inspiring works of  
> Michael Crichton and in memorium of Lord Richard Attenborough who helped bring it to life on screen.  
> By Quiet_Man
> 
> My prediction (or, more appropriately, a wish) of a "Jurassic Park 4, 5, or even 6” (The Jurassic park logo of a T-Rex skull super-imposed and morphing over a holographic human skull as they rotate to a face-on position!) October, 2011.
> 
>  
> 
> The premise: "Man's goal is to become God. If and When this happens, Man will no longer exist and God will no longer be needed!"  
> Malcolm (Chaos theory) (Clichés and all!) The Law of Entropy dictates that systems fail and everything returns to its base resting state, Oblivion! “You spent so much time wondering if you could, you failed to stop and wonder if you should!”

      Opening credit shot of Michael Angelo’s God and Man in the clouds with the shot moving from God’s face down his arm and to his finger tip outstretched touching the tip of a raptor’s claw!

            The camera shakes and begins to fall through the clouds. The obscured shot regains control to see the following shot.----------

**Just another Day at work**

      Native Amazon Indian flutes and drums start playing the opening few notes from Jurassic Park as a steamy fog lifts from the canopy of a Central American Rain Forest tree top scene. A group of butterflies, Asterope Lepriueuri sit flapping their wings on the leaves of a Cattleya orchid. Clouds overhead gather and darken. A single bolt of lightning flashes and a sudden clap of thunder erupts. It echoes off into the distance and seemingly goes on forever. 

      A Small Truck is leaving with a fresh load of drugs in bundles stacked in the bed.   The lab’s leader opens a bottle of tequila and orders a brief celebration on a successful large production run. He pours everyone a drink from the bottle and tossed the empty bottle into the brush. The brush shakes and a chattering snort can be heard. He pauses a moment and stares off into the brush to listen for a repeat of the sound. He hears nothing but the ubiquitous noises of the jungle. Then, he shakes his head and orders everyone back to work. He pulls a small flask from his shirt and takes a hefty swig, replaces it back in his shirt under his shoulder holster and enters the Quonset hut. Its roof is painted in a pattern of maroon, green and yellow.

     Shaking and disturbed streams of brush converge from multiple directions to make their way towards the Quonset hut deep in the jungle and a clawed hand grasps a door handle. It slowly figures out how to turn it to open the door.  Rumbling snorts and the shrieks break the busy din and a radio playing Central American party music plays in the background. Sudden loud screams and a couple gunshots break up the festive moment and are quickly silenced. One bullet strikes a fan in the window and knocks loose a blade, causing the fan to lose balance. On a lab table lays a smoking pistol with a half-ejected casing jammed in the receiver. Only the radio makes any sound. The small flask of tequila lies slashed open on the floor in a puddle of its spilt contents splattered with drops of blood. The radio plays on and is slowly faded out by the sound of a broken fan making rhythmic beating sounds against the still jungle air then it is replaced by the beating of helicopter rotor blades.

** The Ultimate Solution **

 

     Slowly focusing into view, from out of the sun, the shimmering heat of jet exhaust obscures the image of the head on approach of two Stealthy Blackhawk helicopters like a mirage on the desert floor with one Apache gunship and a pair of OV-10 Bronco escorts skimming the jungle canopy from behind. They are carrying Force Recon marines and Costa Rican Drug enforcement police assault teams to a remote cocaine lab. The sunrise on the Atlantic Ocean almost obscuring their view as the heat trail of their exhaust helps break up their image. Pilots exchange chatter on the approach and receive a last command to prosecute the mission. Cameras on the gunship, Broncos and Blackhawks record the events and transmit live feedback to headquarters. One pilot announces that their ETA is 2 minutes to target. “We are live on all channels.” “Home Plate do you copy?”

     On-board the LHA “Tripoli” sitting offshore begins fading into the Command and Control Center arrayed with multiple monitor screens and live feeds coming on line. Marine Corps Lt. Colonel Cross. He is pacing around the room absorbing the situation while he palms a baseball. There is an odd scar on his right hand and his little finger is missing.   He still manages to fully enclose his large hand around the baseball. His grasp appears as though it is a perpetual pitching grip on the ball. “Roger Umpire, all feeds live and online.” Commence operation “Gardener”, Confirmation command “Play Ball”, “I say again, Play Ball”. On top of one monitor sit’s a bobble head figure of a baseball player underneath an autographed photo of ‘Dizzy Dean’. The inscription reads, “Sometimes, A man’s gotta know what he don’t know.”

      The lead Blackhawk pilot relays the command to the team.

      “We are a go with operation; all players take the field and assume your positions.” Off the microphone, he says “Batter Up!”

      A few kilometres away from the Quonset hut, the drug transport is intercepted by a team of Costa Rican D.E.A. officers already on the ground and detained. The small truck slides to a stop as it reached the roadblock. Costa Rican soldiers and DEA agents quickly subdue the driver and guard without a shot. They begin looking at the cargo in the bed of the truck and radio in. “We have a load of the finest cocaine!” The team leader radios in. The commander’s voice replies “hold them there until we have confirmation of lab containment by the other team.” The driver and guard are gagged with duct tape over their mouths and zip-tie handcuffs. They are made to kneel in front of their vehicle.

     Strange noises (A soft clicking growl) and the shaking of brush are heard by everyone at the checkpoint. A quick whistle is heard by everyone on the team and all eyes are fixed on the team leader. They assume positions win a circle with everyone’s back to each other and ready their weapons. The team leader rises and steps toward the brush. He pulls back a layer of the brush and reveals a capybara darting quickly into the dense foliage. The team leader begins to laugh and turns back to his team to give an all clear when the surrounding bush explodes with unseen attackers and, within moments, the entire group is down. Shrill screams both human and other worldly, along with gunshots fill the air. Bodies are tossed into the air and some are taken to the ground in furious haste. Gunshots of semi and fully automatic weapons cease. The whole event is over in moments and nothing is left but weapons, vehicles, drugs and Blood. In the malay, a medal of Our Lady of Guadalupe is ripped from its chain and is sent spinning skywards. The blue sky above is bright and clear. The warbling of the medal can be heard in the stillness below in rhythmical beating flutters and the ring of pure silver musically sings through the air. It lands in the fresh mud of a tire track standing upright. A large clawed foot steps down on it flattening it in the resulting 3-toed print left behind.

 

     “Chewy take cover position.” “Eight Ball and Six Pack, take high watch for any aircraft in the area, jam communications and intercept any hostiles.” “Roger that sir, climbing to cover ceiling.” “Holding at 1,000 feet.” The Bronco Pilot responds. “Eight Ball and Six Pack taking loiter positions.” The female gunship pilot (would love to see it played by Michelle Rodriguez!) begins to climb to a position above the Blackhawks. “This your first live mission lieutenant?” “No Ma’am!” “But, this doesn’t look anything like the Desert Mountains I just came from. You gotta admit though, the scenery is beautiful”

     The Bronco nearest them takes on a steep climb. “Chewy, we’ve got your 12 and six on top, acknowledge?” She answers back, “Gotcha' boys, don’t get a nose bleed up there!” The Gunship yaws around the black hawks and into cover position. “Hold us here a minute while I run a weapons check son.” She flips through a series of switches and arms the Apache’s weapons array. “OK, we’re green across the board. All weapons are hot!” “Ma’am, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how did you get your call sign?” The female pilot answers, “Well, let’s see, My Name is Captain Rosalitta Maria Chiquita Lasanj’os.” I’m not a Rosey, I’m not the Virgin Mary, I certainly ain’t no lasagna and I’m’ nobody’s banana!” “I chew ‘em up and spit ‘em out!” “So Chewy was my only option!”

      “I first checked out in a Loach, then 53’s and 47’s, Blackhawks and, finally a gunship.” “My first flight instructor wanted to name me ‘Tamale’ but, I kicked him in the balls after he thought it would be funny to hang me out on a door-less flight on the skids of a LOCH by my seatbelt. I was able to get back in my seat and hang him out the other side.” A ground crew chief said, “I guess she chewed your ass up good sir!” “So, it’s been “Chewy” ever since”. “And you?” “Since we’re telling our stories, how did you get ‘Junior’?” “Well Ma’am, I really don’t know.” “My birth name is William but of course, everyone called me Billy growing up.” “I think it had something to do with being the youngest pilot to ever check out in an Apache.” “I think I beat the previous record by 2 months on the age scale.” “Sounds good enough for me.” Chewy responds.

       The ground team leader on the first helicopter calls for “weapons hot!” and, “fire on any armed inhabitants in the area.” His last words are, “Don’t let any of these monsters walk!” First Lieutenant Jason Cartier, was a Louisiana farm boy, he has worked his way through the ranks of the corps with degrees in chemical engineering and agriculture from Louisiana State University. He still has a little bit of a Cajun accent, so much so that his team sometimes jokingly calls him ‘Jacque Boudreaux.’   (Would be a perfect part for Josh Duhamel!) He has his name patches simply read “CARTER”. He is carrying a ‘Sapper’s’ satchel full of explosives to destroy their intended target.

      Second in command is Master Gunnery Sargent Oliver Poindexter. A 37 year old African American from Detroit, his nickname is ‘Pontiac’. He stands well over 6 feet and speaks with a deep bass voice that any DI would kill for. Although a father of 3 little girls and a 1 year old baby boy and tender at heart, He’s ‘Old School’ Force Recon Marines and he has a battle kill count on his service fitness record documented as ‘TNTC’ (Too numerous to count). Although it has been retired from service for over 10 years, he still slings the M-60 machine gun dwarfing it next to his larger than life frame. It is his favorite. He wears a modern back-pack ammunition canister holding over 500 rounds of 7.62 x 51 armor-piercing rounds. He’s also wearing a sapper’s pouch a few pounds of explosive charges in it. He can handle the weight. He is the giant of his team.

      Next on the bench is our sniper, Staff Sargent Palo Ramirez; his nick name is ‘Polo’. Constantly chewing gum and smacking it, he is the American born child of Mexican immigrant parents from El Paso, Texas. His neck tattoo and the lady of Guadalupe covering his back are reminders of his adolescent days when he ran away looking for family in Mexico and ended up in street gangs in Ciudad Juarez. As a Mexican immigrant, he was always picked on by the white kids and suffered relentless bullying and name-calling. He was at one time, the gang’s leader. His favorite target was any white kid out of place on the Mexican streets. He was caught by police while snatching a purse from a tourist. He was deported back to America as a 19 year-old and the judge gave him the choice of enlistment or incarceration. His tough life and quick reflexes and thinking have served him well to make it to the force recon team.  His stealthy abilities and phenomenal shooting skills easily got him through scout sniper school. Today’s assignment involves close quarters combat so he leaves his long range gear behind.

           

      Staff Sargent Domenic Luciano, nick named ‘Lucy’ is a boy from “Five Points” borough, New York. His family has owned the same restaurant for over 50 years. They immigrated to New York just before the outbreak of World War 2.  His grandfather enlisted and returned to Europe and trained with O.S.S. and the resistance to neutralize Italy then France to help defeat the Germans. His father fought in Korea and Viet Nam as Special Forces and he had to carry on the family tradition. He dreams of retirement and returning home to the family restaurant business. He also carries a sapper’s satchel with charges.

     Across the fuselage is Corporal Thomas Parsons nickname ‘T-Boy’. He hails from Biloxi, MS. He is the youngest of 4 boys from a family of fishermen and the son of a Force Recon Marine Corps father. He grew up at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina and accompanied his father to work at Court House Bay demolition school on many days during the summers there. He is the newest member of the team joining up just 3 months ago. He is Ramirez’s spotter. His hands are shaking as he holds a death grip on his weapon. It’s a modified AR-10 with suppressor and infra-red optics equipped with an FPV recording device. It is identical to Polo’s. This is his first real mission. At the lieutenant’s order, they slap magazines into their weapons and chamber the first rounds.

      They check their safeties and turn on the digitally recorded optics mounted on their weapons. In the other helicopter a five man Costa Rican DEA team prepares to drop in as well. Black and green face paint is the makeup of the day. All members of the 2 teams are outfitted with cameras and audio recording and transmitter equipment. One final banking turn from the airships bring the small clearing barely big enough to drive a small truck through. Fast roping commandos swing out the doors and swiftly gain footing at the very edge of the building. No gunfire is heard. They hit the ground with amazing military precision and form up on their commander. Hand signals and eye contact are the language of the day with no verbal communication. Precision military discipline directs their every movement as they form up on the door of the steel Quonset hut.

           

      The door is ajar and the sound of mariachi music fills the air from a boom box radio inside. No activity is noted. Hiding in the brush, Carter surveys the area. The heat of the jungle is already settling in on the team as sweat rolls from their faces. Carter pulls his hat off and wipes his brow. Only Poindexter is dry. His hand is gripping the M-60 tightly and rubbing the back of his neck as if to soothe an itch.

      The helicopters back off to survey the area as the team begins to clear the area. Just inside the opening, a bloody arm is seen blocking a door and when a soldier kicks it in the rest of the way, there is no one attached to it. A few feet away inside the door, a severed foot is still standing in its’ shoe on a lab table and flasks that aren’t broken are still boiling over their Bunsen burners. Smoke is rising over a few piles of non-descript chemicals. Probably batches of unfinished cocaine on the tables. Bags and blocks litter the floor. Slash marks in the walls are wider than any machete or axe chops would be in pairs, trios. Strange sets of tracks and blood splatter is everywhere. Some spilled, some splattered and some appear to be sprayed.

      Small rounded uniform teardrop-shaped objects on the table catch the eye of the team leader. He picks up a couple in his gloved hand and they shimmer seem to react to his touch like the excited skin of a squid. Small specks and spots appear and disappear on the small coin-shaped objects not quite half the size of a dime. There is one weapon on the dirt floor with a jammed cartridge in the slide and a couple spent rounds lying nearby. It seems to have been bent to a nearly 45 degree angle and disabled. He reaches down and picks up the AK-47 to examine it closer. He notices a few more of the odd-shaped discs and slips them in his pocket.

      His gaze shifts quickly in sweeping surveying moves around the room. He notices an array of video screens at one station watching approaches from different angles of the building. He returns his gaze to the floor. A strange set of tracks appear on the bloody and mudded white powder litter the floor. Blood smears streak wildly out of a ripped out wall. There are weapons lying around apparently unfired. The strange tracks and blood trail lead to the nearby brush a few feet away from the ripped out wall of the building. A door at the other end of the building hangs by its bottom hinge and blood is present there as well.

      T-Boy turns the volume off on the blaring radio that was flipped on its back. A large window fan missing part of one of its loosened blades is spinning unbalanced and making rapid whopping sounds. Poindexter grabs the cord and yanks it free of the receptacle and it slowly decelerates to a stop. The team Leader silently signals the rest of his team to advance and 2 team members to backtrack and circle the hut. As they advance towards the door, they observe bloody drag marks and the left behind streaks of bloody handprints being dragged across the door. They end in one large pool of blood then only small drops and splatters from there on. Bits and pieces of bloodied clothing mark a trail off into the jungle and disappear into the dense brush.

      They hear a heavy creaking sound on the roof and all eyes and weapons are fixed on the ceiling. It seems to have suffered similar damage Fluorescent lights hang by shredded power cables as they spark. Chaotic destruction and everywhere, blood!  The silence creates a weighty empty space in the macabre scene. A strange clicking noise outside is heard by one of the team members and is radioed to the leader. “Do you hear that?” Lucy asks Poindexter. Raising his finger to his lips and then pointing upwards, Poindexter motions for Lucy to join him in taking aim at the roof. It is also overheard by the live feed to headquarters and noted by the off-site commander.

      A strange clawed foot is standing on the end of the hut roof. Its claw is ‘testing its grip’ on the painted metal. Carter asks in a loud whisper. “What the hell was that?!” Ramirez looks around and upwards as he whispers back. “No visual sir”. Then, the sound of rustling brush and popping gunfire burst onto the airways. The waiting attacker pounces on a Hispanic DEA soldier from the roof. A live feed from one of the Costa Rican team member’s helmet camera abruptly goes to ground and a large scaled foot and claw with blood splatter enters the frame.

      Choking and gurgling sounds are heard across the air and the ground stricken camera views blood dripping on the lens as a partial picture of an unfamiliar snout and teeth come into view and the camera goes to static and black. A sickening wet crunch is the last sound recorded. More gunfire erupts and screaming men converge on the sight of their fallen team member. Only a glance of something slightly larger than man-sized is seen as it charges off, then vanishing into the dense impenetrable jungle. Gunfire pursues the object but nothing else is seen or heard.

      As the team assembles over their fallen member, a horrific scene emerges. The soldier is slashed diagonally from the neck to his waist and almost completely divided. His head is crushed in his helmet and part of his left arm is completely missing and his weapon bent in to a near 90 degree shape with a deep gouge noted in the metal of the receiver. Smoke still wafts from its muzzle of the destroyed weapon. There is an eerie blue fluid splattered on his chest and face.

      Nearby, a helicopter pilot calls out, “something coming through the brush from your 10 and 2 o’clock!” “Now they’re at your 6!” “Hell! They’re all around you!” “Firing danger close on your position, nobody move!” “Huddle formation!” yells Carter and the group instantly becomes a single pile of humanity. The fire breathing, humming roar of the Blackhawk’s door-mounted M-134 Dillon miniguns and, smoke clouds engulf the entire building and surrounding areas as the team huddles close together and the ground while the butcher birds drop jungle trees like some hellish invisible weed eater mowing down everything it their wake. Explosions and fireballs erupt from 2.75 inch rocket impacts near the lab as pieces of vegetation and an eerie bluish green fluid splatters in spots and glisten on the remaining vegetation leaves as it forms an eerie fog. The roaring is continuous and deafening.

           

     After over a solid minute of withering fire, the smoke begins to clear and, the pilot calls out no more movement. “No IR signatures!” “Switch to white and black hot and get me a damned visual!” “Only shimmers and waves sir!”

     “OK team!” “There’s nothing else to do here so, set your charges and let’s get the hell out of this place!” Lucy and Poindexter pull the charges from their packs and pull the arming strip exposing a red line and a blinking green light. They place one at each end of the hut and in the middle as they head out the door. The team retreats back to the extraction zone to evacuate. The transmissions are all being observed by the Tripoli. Lt. Colonel Cross asks, “What the hell is going on down there?!” The commander slides his baseball in his pocket and leans in close to view the monitor screen.   “Report!” He calls into his microphone. No answer, only weapon’s fire reports and screaming is heard. Carter screams out. “Air support now!” Cross calls out. “Give me a Sit-Rep now!” “What the hell is attacking you down there Carter?”

     One of the Blackhawk pilot calls out, “those bastards are coming back for more!” The brush is waving back in around you!” Carter yell’s out an order. “Everybody hook up now and let’s get the hell out of here!” “Chewy, get down here and clear us an L.Z.!” The two Blackhawks bank left and right to give the gunship room to fire. The crews inside the two helicopters set up the S.PI.E.S. Rigs and prepare to deploy them. The Broncos listen in for any cue to attack. Carter radios command and informs them that all the targets are dead and someone or something else is attacking them. “We are unable to identify attackers!” “1 dead and 2 injured so, we’re buggin’ out!” “We’ll clean up once we’re airborne.”

     The big gunship noses over and begins a spiraling approach to the target area. Chewy calls in, “We’re gonna spray for bugs and cut you out a circle boys.” “Just hang tight!” Her gunner searches frantically for targets. “Can you see the team?” “Not sure Ma’am” He responds. Can you see the rest of the movement?” “It’s all over the place but, nothing to shoot at!” He fires off a few wild rounds but no impacts are noted other than kicked up dirt and plant matter. “Slave the gun to my helmet console lieutenant.” “Yes Ma’am, You don’t trust my aim Ma’am?” She responds, “Do you even see what the hell we’re shooting at?!” “Well I think” he responds, “No time for thinking, slave me the gun damnit!” As her gunner transfers control of the 30mm gun to Chewy, she mumbles off the side of her helmet microphone.“ “I have an artistic eye for these things Junior.” 30mm chain gun fire falls in a deadly arc around the site. Strange bluish splatters and non-descript pieces fly through the air.

     Trees begin to wilt and fall under the heavy constant drumroll of reports. Its rhythm is broken only by the intermittent insertion of a 2.75 inch rocket blasting large swells of clearing around the parameter. The vegetation makes a wet splashing and slapping sound as the strikes of the automatic fire impacts its mass. “I call this ‘saying my rosary’!”

     Chewy shouts in her microphone, “Flight Leader, what exactly am I shooting at?” The Lead Blackhawk pilot replies. “Cannot confirm.” There are no IR signatures just disturbed patterns on the screen.” “They must have some new camo down there.” “You can only see them when they move.” “Got it sir, that’s what I thought!” Moving lines in the brush below give the Apache moving targets in multiple directions and the deadly chain gun turns to engage them on the move. The lead Bronco radios in, “What the hell’s going on down there sir?”

     Scanning the scene Chewy notices something in her view finder. “What the hell?!” Her eyes pick up strange shimmering’s of light waves and she begins to focus on them and aim her deadly fire on the visual. “Do you need our assistance?” Chewy responds, “Negative Eight ball leader, maintain ceiling cover and report any activity.” Speaking out of her microphone, Chewy says. “We got this little party under control.”

     At the newly blasted out clearing near the Quonset hut, Lucy is standing out in front of everyone reaching for the tether overhead has his arm ripped open violently out of what seems like mid-air and his teammate opens fire on a shimmering space standing just a foot away and the eerie fluid again splatters on the both of them. He is knocked several yards away but manages to quickly gain his feet. The creature jumps into the brush some meters away. It roars and barks and thrashes in the brush as if it has gotten tangled in the vines.

     Dropping to the ground and rolling on his back, Lucy grabs a fragmentation grenade from his vest and tosses it towards the brush. It strikes a creature in the back and it turns to see what struck it. Looking in several directions, it finally looks down and sees the olive drab sphere and gives it a puzzled gaze. The grenade explodes and dismembers the creature where it stands.

     Struck by a body part of the creature, Carter is knocked to the ground and feels a searing pain in his shoulder. It is another curved claw talon from the dismembered attacker piercing his vest and jacket hanging by a piece of flesh. Carter pulls the object from his skin and regains his feet. He staggers back into the L.Z. and joins the team. An impact from the direction he just came and strikes Carter in the back, knocking back down to the ground while hooking up to the retrieval harness. Instinctively, he spins firing on the object, driving it backwards and splattering him with bluish blood.

           

      The forward helicopter has already dropped its S.P.I.E.S. (Special- Patrol-Insertion-Extraction-System) to retrieve the Costa Ricans. Poindexter stands out in front of them laying down cover fire while they make their escape. He empties the backpack of ammunition and pulls it off to get rid of the extra weight. He grabs a fragmentation grenade and drops it into the pack after arming it. He heaves it into some disturbed brush like an Olympic discus thrower. A few seconds later, it explodes sending shrapnel through the brush eliciting inhuman screams and roars. An Erie bluish spray splatters on his face. He wipes a drop up and gives it a sniff. Wiping it off on his pant leg, he grins and muses to himself that he has made a good throw.

     The second air ship deploys its line and hovers slightly behind and to the left. The Costa Rican team hooks up and is whisked away by the first ship. There are only four of them and the helicopter is faster in its hasty escape from the area.

     After the rest of his team is secured, Carter hooks himself to the SPIES rig and signals the rest of the team to prepare for lift-off. At the last second, they manage to hook to the fallen Costa Rican team member and the unidentified body part of one of their attackers. It is the lower part of a leg and ankle section that struck Carter. It probably weighs 150 pounds. He reaches to feel his wound and the claw is still imbedded in his vest. He shoves the loose end deep into his vest and feels the sudden tug of his harness as his feet leave the ground. The extra weight of the fallen team member and the creature’s body part slows the rise of the Blackhawk. The team is swinging and aiming their weapons in all directions in case they are attacked again. But, no attack comes and they rise slowly above the scene.

     Chewy loiters a few more minutes searching for any more sign of the invisible movement but sees nothing. Then, a shimmering pattern of waves is noticed by her and she squeezes her trigger. A few more rounds spit from her cannon and the indicator on her console alarms and shows 0 rounds left. “I’m Winchester on 30 flight leader and we’re too close to switch to rockets.” Eight Ball cracks in through the radio. “Must have gotten really hot down there!” “No time to land?” “Negative Eight Ball, bunch of crazy shit down here and we still aren’t sure what it was.” “You have a casualty?” “Looks that way.” “Poor bastard, I’ll cover you to home plate from up here.” “Roger that, we don’t need any more surprises today.”

     They slowly clear the drop zone and Carter reaches into his vest to retrieve a wireless detonator. As he pulls out the detonator, he feels a sharp piercing sting in his chest again. It is a second claw. He pulls it out and hastily shoves it into his vest pocket. The Blackhawk is climbing nearly vertically above the L.Z. about 40 meters from the building. With both hands free now, he sets the first of the 2-stage safeties to off and squeezes the trigger. The green light on the packages turns to a blinking yellow. He sets the second safety to off and the light turns to a blinking red light. He places his thumb on the final safety and squeezes the trigger. An audible beep can be heard then, a loud continuous tone. The light becomes a steady red as Carter makes one final statement. “Hasta La Vista you assholes!”

           

     The Quonset hut erupts in a gigantic ball of fire and pieces are hurled into the sky. A rising, spinning piece of curved metal from the building’s roof flies directly at the vulnerable team. It shears the bottom part of the line holding the creature’s body part and it falls to earth spinning like a wing-shot bird. It disappears into the convulsing fireball below. The tethered marines are shaken and whipped in a wild arc under the helicopter and settles back down. Carter barely misses the tail rotor as it strikes the muzzle of his slung weapon and knocks it form his grasp.   T-Boy hollers, “What a ride!” Poindexter calmly replies, “That is definitely and ‘E’ ticket ride.” Ramirez vomits spraying most of his team members below. “Sorry guys!” Ramirez wipes his face with the back of his hand and Carter responds with, “Well I guess we’re all gonna have to get new B.D.U.’s.”

     All screaming finally subsides and uncontrollable laughter ensues throughout the team hanging under the belly of the Blackhawk. Hearing the laughter in their head phones, the pilot asks. “You boys having a good time out there?” “You had to be there”, answers Carter. “Just quit rockin’ my ship and we’ll be just fine.” “You guys want to get in on the beach?” Carter responds, “Hell no! Just get us home and the hell out of here!” “OK, Your ticket!” The first Blackhawk is landing on the beach to retrieve the Costa Rican team as they pass overhead whistling and hollering giving hand gestures.

     Eight ball radios in, “Sir, I’m picking up something rising above the canopy and bugging out, I’m dropping down to investigate.” The OV-10 Bronco bails off into a hard left dive to intercept the bogies on their radar. A few wispy clouds obscure their vision for a moment. Then, materializing into view, the bronco crew is shocked to see the flock of 8 to 10 foot wing spanned pterodactyls flying in formation like a flock of geese on migration. “Sir, are you seeing this on the live feed?” “What in the hell?” The great pterodactyls all dive in formation and disappear back into the jungle canopy below.

     “Home plate, are you getting this?” Back on the Tripoli, Colonel Cross watches the video feed. “Return to cover position Eight ball.” Cross orders. “Acknowledged, home plate, returning to cover pattern.” The pilots try to understand and explain what they have just seen to each other but have trouble finding the words.

      The helicopters fly across the coast and out to sea to the awaiting Tripoli in the nearby Pacific. The Broncos land on the short deck after catching #3 wires in the short space of the LHA’s flight deck. The Apache gunship is being tethered on an elevator platform and a female pilot removes her helmet. She catches Carter’s eye. A smile crosses her lips and then a short wide-eyed stare at the bloody and tattered marine. The elevator sinks out of view as Chewy stares at the sight. Carter briskly turns to help load his fallen comrade onto a stretcher. The jet engines slow and eventually become silent and the sound of wind and the ocean waves breaking on the bow are the only sound left that isn’t mechanical.

      The ship’s commander meets them on the hangar deck and sees the unbelievable wounds of the fallen soldier. Crew members gather around the horrific sight and mumbles filter through the air. “What the Hell did you tangle with out there?” “I don’t know sir, I don’t know!” The stretcher is placed on a work table. The injured ae tended to by corpsmen and ship’s doctors. Even more crew gathers to see the unbelievable sight. Whispers of disbelief and conjecture rise to a low disorganized roar as sailors gather to gawk at the horrific sight.

           

     “Everyone, back to your duty stations NOW!” “Corpsman! Get us some barricade curtains out here now!” The mangled weapon is handed to the commander and examined. “Local’s Sir?” “No machete could have done this!” “Sir, all we saw was a few “shimmers” in the brush”.  Carter tells Lt. Colonel Cross. “Sir, they don’t have any firearms!” “We fired all the shots.” “Could they have some new cammo we’re not aware of?” What’s all that blue splatter on your gear? I think it’s their blood but it’s not like any I’ve ever seen before. “Sir, That place was trashed!” “Just a few other body parts and a whole lot a blood!” “All the body parts look like they were ripped off not cut or hacked.” Poor bastards in the lab got off 2 shots.” “The rest of their weapons weren’t even touched!” “Alright then, let’s get him on ice and have your team assemble in the ready room for debriefing.” “Sir, we had a part of one of those things but lost it when we set off the charges.” “I saw that, Lucky for you that piece of roof didn’t take you and your whole team out!” “Sir, I found these lying around the area.” He hands over a few of the scales he picked up in the Quonset hut. A few are still changing colors but, most have turned gray and have begun to curl as they dry out.   “Corpsman!” “Yes sir?” give me one of those biohazard bags.” “Yes sir!” He places the disc-shaped objects in the bag and orders them to the lab for analysis. “Get all your men down to the Pilot’s Ready Room for debriefing and tell them to bring a change of clothes with them, boots and all.” “Yes Sir!” Carter gives a smart salute and instructs the team members.

     A contraband bottle of dark rum is passed around in a pilot’s briefing / ready room. Everyone is removing their uniforms and placing them in large paper bags for evidence and lab analysis. They change into fresh uniforms and finish off the bottle or rum. The team reassembles and finds seats while endless chatter fills the room. Lights in the room dim and the footage on their cameras reviewed. Frames are frozen to attempt to capture any images that might identify the attackers. The team reviews the live feeds transmitted back to the ship and try to discern the event by the images. The only clear shot is that of a longer than human shaped grayish flesh colored foot with a set of high curled claws. The next frame is that of a lower jaw and the first couple elongated and interlocking teeth that progress the length of the jaw evolving into molars, many serrated pointed teeth shortening as they progress back into the jaw. The lips are contorted in a sneer, still bloody and again in the same unnatural hue of flesh tone, save the bluish gum line. A lower border of an eye is seen at the very top of the frame but, still no complete images to identify the attackers are captured.

     The team mutters amongst themselves and Polo mumbles “Chupacabre!” then kisses a cross hung around his neck and makes the sign of the cross. Chewy does the same thing from the rear of the room almost in unison. Navy Corpsmen gather all the paper bags for lab analysis and the team is dismissed and disperses to their quarters.

     The Costa Rican team leader remains behind and carries on the discussion with Colonel Cross. “Sir, this entire 70 mile coast line has been void of human inhabitants for a few years now and that’s north of the first set of disappearances in the area.”   “Missing person’s reports have flooded the local police.” “Now, there is no one who lived near this strip of coast that isn’t missing, moved or dead.” (Commander) “We always assumed the cartel killed off the locals and took over the area for cocaine production.” (Carter) “It appears we have some new neighbors in the area sir”.   Lt. Colonel Cross asks. “What was that word Ramirez mumbled and reacted over?” (Carter) “Sir, he called it a Chupacabre”. (Commander); “Thought that was just a fabled small chicken killer”. (Team Leader) “With all due respect sir, I believe we just got put on that menu.” Giving a contorted clownish frown, giving a dumb founded but concerned facial expression, the commander responds with “guess we taste like chicken”. Colonel Cross shakes the hand of the Costa Rican team leader and tells him, “We’ll autopsy your solider and prepare him for the trip home to his family.”

     “Come with me Lieutenant!” The commander leads Carter back through the control and command center and enters his office. “Close and lock the door Lieutenant!” Lt. Colonel Cross unlocks a small cabinet on a shelf in his state room. He pulls out a bottle of scotch and pours two glasses and hands one to Carter. “Thank you sir.” “You earned that one lieutenant!” Cross motions Carter to take a seat as he sits down at his console and brings up a video clip from the dead team member’s camera.   The recording shows what appears to be a large upright creature between 7 and 8 feet tall and is almost translucent. It has a large head and jaw with teeth appearing like glass but not as clear and uniform. Carter asks, “Is that what hit us sir?”

     Cross swaps out video cards and plays back footage of the pterodactyls gliding over the jungle canopy. “This was less than a click from your position!” The commander pushes back his chair and looks up at Carter. “Looks like we’ve tangled with something we’ve never dealt with before.” “Take a look at this lieutenant.” Cross continues to work at his computer and brings up aerial footage of a remote uninhabited beach. Odd prints in the sand come into view. They are strange clawed footprints. “We filmed this just a few clicks from your jungle lab.” “Some drones picked this up while you were dancing the tango with these things.” “Any ideas on what might have made those tracks?” “A big Chupacabre perhaps sir?” “I have a little souvenir for you sir.” Carter digs down deep in his vest and retrieves a claw. Cross takes the claw and utters “Son of a,,,,” The commander’s phone rings and he answers it. “Sir!” His posture changes immediately in his chair and he is now sitting at attention. “You saw it all sir?” “Yes Sir, I understand sir.” “Yes Sir, we’ll be watching for it sir!” He hangs up the phone and returns his attention to Carter. “Regardless of what those things are, we shouldn’t have to worry about them much longer.” “We’re about to sterilize the area.” “In about 4 hours, we’re gonna drop fuel-air munitions on that site and mow the jungle.” “Sir, we’re not on American soil” Coolly, the commander replies, “Relax, training exercise accidents happen all the time and there’s no humans in the area.” “Just a little rain forest real estate and a few birds and monkeys,” Just moments after Carter leaves the commander’s office, a banging on the cabin door by our Bronco pilots is quickly followed up by “Sir!, You need to see this!.” They hand him the memory card from his video camera.

** Save The Rain Forest **

****

 

     A camera scene flies through the fog and breaks through to expose the beauty of the rain forest below and shows an ecosystem teaming with life. Families of howler monkeys sit grooming each other in the high canopy and Spider monkeys frolic playfully through the limbs. They clamber past a mother sloth carrying her young slowly down a branch. Howler monkeys strike up a chorus of alarms as a pair of Jaguars court along the trails and hunt the Cayman crocodile in the streams below. A Ringed Kingfisher returns to his perch with a tropical minnow in its beak. It flies a short distance to feed its mate who is patiently brooding their nest. Pair of white-faced Capuchin monkeys sit hugging each other while their infant crawls playfully over their back and shoulders. Brilliant Toucans sit in council along floral draped branches displaying their glorious bills looking left then right in stately unison. Orchids and other jungle flora splash surreal hues from an “other-worldly” color pallet. Songs of thriving and teaming life echo through air as if each participant was on key and in time with the world. Colorful Macaws fly by in glorious formation and paint the background in brilliant hues of red, blue, yellow and green. Filled to overflowing is the beautiful world of this rain forest.

    Then, the Jungle is silent for a moment. A troop of monkeys stop their play and they all gaze skyward as the sound of the approaching aircraft gets louder. As if straining to hear the sound, birds tilt their heads in unison to more closely define what they are hearing. The playful tumbling of the jaguar pair stops and they gaze upwards at the alien sound. For a moment, the sea of life is still and silent.

     Five C-130 Hercules in a wing formation passes overhead as parachutes open and drag the big canisters out of the bellies of the planes. The cargo planes split formation left and right as if performing in an air show. They leave the falling parachutes in a semi-circle pattern several hundred yards apart hanging in the sky. Their decent appears unrealistically slow as they fall in formation toward the jungle canopy below and then, in one hellish second, tremendous pressure waves full of nothing but a split second of silence morphing into a thunderous roar. It turns the world around and below it into one heaving ball of orange and yellow flame consuming everything within its reach.

     A freakishly large mushroom cloud is visible from the offshore ship as Carter watches. A few seconds later a palpable pressure wave can be felt on the crew’s faces on deck and some even stumble and lose their balance for a moment. Carter mumbles under his breath. “That’s one hell of a training accident!” His clenched fist slowly opens and he looks at small disc-shape objects he retrieved earlier. He reaches into the leg pocket of his BDU’s and pulls out the second claw and drills a hole in it as well with his knife. The discs no longer shimmer and change color but, have become dull and greyish like a cold dead fish. He removes his dog tags and threads the chain through a hole in the discs and claw the, returns it to his neck. He tucks it into his T-shirt and walks back to his quarters.

     A brief view of the bombed area shows only floating ash and charred earth. A single singed-edge blue and yellow feather floats gracefully landing on sparking ash. Its colors are consumed by the heat and a charred twisted thread is all that is left and then, its ashes are picked up and taken away in the cyclonic rising breeze revealing a shimmering heat-curled scale making its final color changes and turning grey like the skin of a dying pelagic game fish next to the partially incinerated skull of a monkey.

 

** Addressing the Problem **

 

     A large dolphin fish in all its brilliant changing colors along with several other large brilliant game fish hang on the wall of a lavish office in Sacramento California, “How do they do that?” “It’s the newest taxidermy technology, right out of silicon valley! Isn’t California great?!” Proudly, the governor responds. “That was part of my birthday present from my wife along with the fishing trip down in Cabo.”

     Electrified paint and polymers with LED lights embedded in the body change the colors.” With his anaconda scaled boots (Long slow close-up pan of the scaly skin shimmering in the overhead lights) crossed and propped up on a highly polished exotic wood desk and taking a big puff on a big illegal Cuban cigar, the governor listens to a briefing from members of his cabinet as the discussion centers on the problem of illegal immigration, he hears one member say: “We need a deterrent that will stop this flooding across our border!” “They’re bankrupting our healthcare system and burning up every red cent in our welfare program, not to mention unfair competition in our job markets” Another member: “What we need is something they’re all afraid of!”   Yet another: “You realize that eventually they will lose their fear of anything after a while.” “We catch them up and send them back and do it all over again the very next week.”

     The Governor pipes in, “What do you suggest, Kill them off?!” “No Sir! We just find a way to put the fear of God in them!” Governor: So what could they possibly be afraid of that would be scary enough to deter them?” “Well, they travel mainly at night and the dark is one advantage.” “Hey! I heard about this legend from the villagers about a creature that comes out at night,,, I believe they call it a “Chupacabre”.”   Governor: “Yes, yes I believe I’ve heard that before.” Something about a demon that kills in the night” “How can we put that to good use?” “Let me work on it a while but, you realize as soon as they figure it out, they’ll come in droves!” Governor: “Then let’s not ever let them figure it out!” “We put them to work in jail and send them home broke! Maybe they’ll want to go home after all that.”

     We can use Camp Pendleton’s ranges to house them and make them “disappear” for a while then, send them home after a little “therapy”. It’ll never work! ?” The military would never allow us to set up what is essentially a concentration camp. We need to run this one past the lawyers before we take their monies so we’re within the law.” “You know how the ACLU loves to gnaw on these cases!?” The Feds will never go for this at Pendleton! It would equate to bringing back slavery! Not to mention Habius Corpus!

     Bilkes, the Governor’s personal advisor, whispers in the Governor’s ear. “I may just have an idea and the contacts to make this work Governor.” “OK everybody, we’ll try to address this problem again later this week. This meeting is adjourned! Good night Gentlemen! The room empties and the only 2 people left are the Governor and his personal advisor. He closes the double ornate doors and walks over the cabinet on a wall behind the Governor’s desk. He pours himself and the Governor a drink. “Why don’t we just make them disappear for a while and hold them somewhere for a free labor force and they can rebuild the underground walls to keep the next ones out. They’re so good at getting through them then, let’s make them rebuild the same barricades they broke though in the first place!” “Governor, they’ve dug more tunnels and pockets through that border than a wheel of Swiss cheese.” “That’s exactly what I mean!” “We only take them at night to perpetuate the legend.” “We use non-descript tractor trailers to transport them and hold them in an abandoned facility.”

     The Governor asks. “But where do we house them?” “I may be able to secure the old INGEN dock and park facilities.” “We could house 10,000 there easily!” “It’s on the outside edge of town and traffic through there is almost non-existent.” “We could haul them in and out in modified refrigerator trucks and no one would ever figure it out.” “Even the detainees wouldn’t know where they were!” “Most of the complex is underground anyway.” “It only has one way in and out and only 2 service tunnels below that would be easy to control.”

     “You don’t have nightmares about going back to that place after the T-Rex incident?” The governor asks. “Well sir, let’s just say I found a pretty good safe hiding place until all the commotion settled down.” “No one wants to go anywhere near that place for rumors of dinosaurs still running loose there.” They are constantly piping different dinosaur sounds throughout the p.a. system to keep trespassers away and, it seems to be pretty affective.” “After they’ve had a little of that place, they’d be ready to go back home!” “Besides, it already has a reputation of being haunted to the illegals!” “We outfit them all with those new taser anklets and make sure all they see is a lot of darkness.” “Dress the guards like those dinosaurs with giant snake fangs and Voi La!” “Instant Chupacabre!” “We confiscate any funds they earn here to pay for it and send them back just like they got here.” “Doesn’t that Chupacabre suck the life blood out of its victim too?” Bilkes smiles and responds. “They’re only human you know?!” Bilkes offers the governor a toast. “Then what are we waiting for?” “Let’s get it done!”           

     The two men share their toast and part ways. The governor picks up his phone and asks, “Could you have my car ready to take me home please.” “I’m coming out now.” He snuffs out his cigar and closes and locks the ornate liquor cabinet, turns out the lights and closes the double doors behind him. On the wall behind his desk the mounted Mahi-Mahi continues to flash and change color then slowly fades to black darkness.

 

** Late night Burritos **

 

     That same evening, several hundred miles to the south:

     In the dead of night, a highly trained, almost futuristically equipped assault team is emerging from a cleared tunnel just south of Muralla de la Tortilla. An AWACs platform is orbiting 20 miles north at 30,000 feet relaying the action on the ground and surveying the terrain below. Satellite feeds augment their surveillance and fill the busy monitors on board the aircraft. All team members are equipped liked futuristic warriors and their integrated heads-up displays and night vision goggles are blended to their helmets with real-time audio visual feed. There is also a micro camera on the back of each helmet. They are the latest model in near daylight full color vision. The tell-tale green lasers emitting from their weapons search in seemingly frantic but organized patterns.

      Carter’s voice is heard through the earpieces of the rest of the team members, (10 in all). It is the same team plus five additional Hispanic members assigned at the last minute at the insistence of the Mexican government. Each transmission is followed by a classic NASA beep. “Does anyone have visual on the objective yet”? Poindexter on the far right answers, “Nothing Sir”, Ramirez responds. “Should be just over the next ridgeline sir.” “That should put us about 1500 meters from them and about 100 meters above their position sir.” Unseen by the team is a motion detector hidden between stones and facing the trail they’re on. On the circuit board inside, a tiny LED begins to blink and it transmits an alarm to a remote surveillance van in an adjacent valley.

     Their mission is to find and rendezvous with a defecting drug cartel member and destroy a mother lode of staged drugs, recover millions in U.S. currency and capture a large group of drug traffickers including the son of a cartel leader while covering their informant’s identity. Marine Corps Ospreys are on standby in a nearby desert valley for extraction along with 2 AH64W Apache Longbow gunships for cover. Unlike the standard armament of an Apache, these gunships carry external gun pods and extra cameras on their skids in addition to the standard armament package.

 

** Fly By Wire **

 

 

     Backlighting of glittering stars, in a silence interrupted by low droning song of jet stream breezes through wispy clouds at these high altitudes, the increasing volume of an RQ4 drone is slicing gracefully through the night sky. A plethora of on-board sensors are relaying and recording the audio / visual and infra-red traffic from directly overhead. Its 130 foot wingspan is invisible in the night sky from the ground at 45,000 feet. Although diminutive compared to any other jet traffic in the area at that altitude, it is the most expensive and powerful single piece of airborne equipment in the hemisphere! On a wing-mounted pod, a drone falls away and starts a guided drop towards its destination almost 100 miles away! Large letters on each side spell **_STUDDS-7.0._**    (Standoff Unmanned Drone Delivery Systems) Winglets deploy and guided fall assumes guided flight. Loaded inside the hexagonal shaped cross-section with symmetrical upper and lower fuselages are preprogramed drones set to deploy at 2500 feet above their target. Small controlled explosions separate the upper and lower halves of the fuselage and they part ways in flight and each assume its own profile. An expanding lining in the halves of each fuselage expands via internal gas cartridge returning to its pre-deployment shape. Then, both halves assume formation and continue to fly to their final retrieval sites. The advanced aircraft’s payload now takes on shapes of their own and spin like hexagon shaped discs each spinning off its clamshell covers revealing more recognizable six-armed Heli drones that start up automatically during their own free-fall to earth. Each one is able to decelerate and stop its fall and achieve stable hovers and then disperse independently to its predetermined destination.

     In the darkness surrounding the drug dealer’s area, the formation of 7 stealthy drones take up pre-assigned positions. 7 small dart-like objects drop from above and strike the ground silently, sinking stakes into the soft desert earth and activating remote camera and listening devices that autonomously activate and focus in the direction of the convoy. Shields drop down the sides and antennae rise from the tops as the devices begin transmitting to the A.W.A.C.S. above. The drones silently regain altitude and head back north to a collection site over the crest of the mountain. “All drone packages have been delivered and functioning online except number 3 Sir.” Drone 3 was delivered between our team and their objective. It is facing backwards toward a large rocky outcropping. It is unable to rotate due to a bent panel restricting its rotation. It struck a rock wall on its descent and was damaged.

     The drone pilots and technicians are stationed remotely in an underground bunker accessible by stairways through a few non-descript containers marked only with a “Bio-Hazard Waste” placard that is situated at Camp Pendleton buried deep in a storage facility behind the motor pool. A technical crew is manning the station inside. The microwave oven “dings” as a technician 1 removes a cellophane wrapped burrito for his evening snack. “Anybody have some of that Taco Bell packaged sauce?” Technician 2 “Probably some in one of those file cabinet drawers marked ‘classified hot’.” “I just want Mild because, my ass can’t take too much more of that hot.” Second Technician “Then why do you eat that crap?” Third technician “Why don’t you eat real Mexican food instead of that Cardboard pepper paper “It’s just a damn snack, not a meal”. “Too much of that crap and you’re gonna have to wipe your ass with a Popsicle tomorrow!” A third technician chimes in, “You know, for a bright computer technician, you sure are afflicted with ESUADA’s disease! “ “What the hell is that?” “You never heard of ESUADA’s disease?” “No dude, what is it?” “That’s Eat Slap up with the Dumb Ass!”

            

     The commanding officer is sitting, staring at a console with his left hand cradling his chin (A Bob Peck Look alike) in the modified container shouts out.

           

     “Quiet! All of you!” “They’re approaching the last ridge”.

     Another team member who is monitoring probe #3 violently shoves his chair back and yells, “Whoa! What the hell was that?!” A shape flashes across the screen. It is obviously not human and the tail is the clearest part of the picture. About 2 meters long, it curls upward and lays to one side like a dog’s but, again, covered with tiny iridescent scales with a few intermingled strings that appear to be unfurled feathers protruding from its head. The entire team focuses on the monitor showing a group of creatures converging on the target. An alarm flashes across another monitor. It is a message from the AWACS crew. Another technician in the room notices the flashing screen and sits down to pull up the image. “Hey! We got a helicopter taking off out there and I think they made us!” Grabbing a microphone on the command desk, the officer in the room calls out to the team. “Snow Leader, you got a bogie lifting off 3 ½ clicks southeast of your position.” “Looks like your target has an air force and they’ve made you.” The message is very garbled and hard to understand.

 

      In a small field some distance away, a van with several antennae array slide open a side door and shouts in Spanish emit form the makeshift command center. A pilot in his flight suit with his ornate cowboy boots in multiple colored patterns propped up on a console showing radar and radio equipment with scanners and monitors flashing, pinging and buzzing.

     He is polishing his gold-plated Desert Eagle pistol and admiring the elaborate engraving and their turquoise crusted grips. He is smoking a cigar and sipping on tequila. He is rocking back and forth to Tom Jones’ “Delilah” playing through his earplugs on his wristband I-pod.

           

     “Hombres on the ridge north of the drop site, looks like military!” The Helicopter pilot speaks up, “How Many?” Looks like 10-12 but I’m sure they have support somewhere.” “OK then let’s launch the guardian angel!” (All in Spanish with subtitles). “Flood the radio with chatter and block their transmissions.” Technicians begin activating transmission panels in the van and assorted sounds begin to transmit on all channels causing chaos on surrounding airways. The ensuing garbled transmissions interfere with every radio station and television station in a 100 mile radius. Mild but sufficient interference bleeds over onto military channels and command begins to overpower reception.

     Two pilots and two gunners run to a brightly colored “sight-seeing” Hughes 500 starts up its turbine engine. The loud clicks of the igniters disappear in the climbing roar and whine of the jet engine as it comes alive and belches fire. A large decal on the side is a picture of “Our Lady of Guadalupe”. The pilots engage their night vision goggles and kill the navigation and cockpit lights. Only red cabin lights remain. Two crewmembers take positions in the sides of the small ship holding RPG’s and slung rifles as the pilot and the other front-seater situate their small arms and make a hasty lift-off.  Almost taking out a giant saguaro cactus, the helicopter darts into the darkness and a fiery exhaust gets smaller in the night sky. In Spanish the van directs them to a heading of 35 degrees north at 3,500 meters.

     The helicopter covers the short distance in minutes and the right-seater calls out. “What’s that?” “10 o’clock in the brush”. He untethers his slung AK-47 and begins firing into the ground. “You idiot!” “We haven’t even acquired a target yet!” The night-vision goggles see almost nothing but the movement of brush below, probably due to rotor wash. The two door gunners search wildly for targets but see nothing to fire on. “Did you steal some of the bosses’ stuff?” “You smokin’ again dude?” asks the other rocketeer. “I got ‘em down there, I tell you!” “Check ‘em out!”  Looking below and scanning reveals nothing.

           

     The radio traffic is garbled and the team chalks it up to chatter. “Say again command, you’re breaking up, repeat, you’re breaking up!” “Clear all channels and switch to hotel-indigo 5”. Radio traffic resumes on the fresh channel and the team Leader reaches a crest on a ridge and asks for a visual. Polo is armed with a Barret .50 caliber M82A-1 Semi-auto answers,

     “I have them sir.” “7- 10- make that 11 bandits and 2 tractor trailers, a ‘mech’.” T-Boy interjects, “Polo, check out the back of that pick-up truck!”   “Sir, they have a ‘mech’ down there.” “Sir, it looks like an old quad 50.” “Do you want me to take it out?” “Stand by Ramirez.” “Remember, this is a capture operation and hopefully not a kill unless they fire first.” A large customized Ford F-350 with a custom built quad M2 .50 caliber machine gun sits back from the tractor trailer trucks and the human traffic is frantic around the vehicles. The big dually is decorated like a Latin carnival float and Spanish party music can be heard rumbling out of its speakers. Headlights can be seen miles off in the distance.

      In the distance the sound of music becomes clearer. T-Boy mounts the tiny but powerful directional microphone on his spotter rifle and tunes it in the direction of the convoy below. “Looks like they’re havin’ a real party down there, what do you think?”   “Yeah, I can count the dingo balls on the windshield so it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch from here.” “Easy pickin’s from here sir” “I can disable those .50 cals. From here if you’d like.” Carter continues to survey the scene. Let’s just be ready to take that thing down on my signal.” “we’re gonna have to take it out first anyway.” “Standby.”

     The rest of the team takes positions on the crest and begin glassing the area and reports in. “Nothing to the west sir.” “All clear to the east as well sir.” “Nothing south of them sir.” “Sir, there’s some movement between them and us but, I can’t make it out.”   A screen in the eyepiece of the commander shows glimmers of movement at 600 meters but no visual. “Any sign of our buyers yet?” “Command’s last report was about 12 clicks out sir.” They’re coming in on that road south west of us.” T-Boy keeps Carter current on the movements of surrounding traffic in the area via satellite communication in his helmet.

     Carter orders the Mexican team to take position high above them and work their way around to a predetermined spot to their west. They will cover the expected buyer’s route and coordinate with their back up ground teams waiting in the desert floor below. “Lucy, cover our right flank.” “Pontiac, Cover left.” As the team leader looks skyward, a Hughes 500 with attached guns and jury-rigged RPG’s are on its skids. The little helicopter tops the crest of a ridge behind the objective. It’s headed directly for their position. It suddenly swings to an angle and a gunner is seen hanging out of its side door. He is hanging out to load the RPG by hand. It swings back to a head-on attitude and a rocket lights the sky careening directly for their position It is a sight not unfamiliar to the Carter and he mumbles “What the F-?”

           

     In an instant, Carter flashes back in time for a brief moment. The commander’s mind travels back to another desert mountain range and a rocket (RPG) streaking toward him from a position across a canyon and the strike of the round close enough to knock him off his feet. The distant “popping and Cracking” of AK47 fire following close behind. His unit sniper calls out in his earpiece “I got a fix on that RPG sir, taking him out now!” Another rocket leaves the site as the sniper recovers from the recoil of the big gun and the rocket streaks harmlessly overhead. “We got a couple bandits trying to flank us on the west sir.” “Engaging now!”   A loader standing directly behind the operator is holding another rocket at the ready and the mammoth round exits the body of the shooter and strikes the rocket, setting it off in his hands and taking out the rest of the ambush team in a shower of molten sparks. For a second, the battlefield is quiet. The sniper and commander make eye contact and exchange a brief smile. It’s Ramirez, the same sniper that is with him on this mission. (Fading back to the present)

     In slow motion, the rocket round closes the distance as the team drops down behind their rocky cover. The rocket skims over the precipice by mere inches and flies past the team disappearing into the night. As it passes over the rocks, sparks fly as the rocket’s tailfin scratches the ground just a couple feet from the team leader. More rockets streak their way but this time from an angle too high to be from the targets below. “Take that bird out!” “Aye, aye sir!” A shot from the big sniper rifle rings out with a muffled roar and the helicopter lurches and heaves, then begins a slow death spiral to the desert floor. Inside the cockpit the left seat pilot is hit and falls onto his stick. After the big ½” 600 grain missile passes through the pilot’s body it strikes the rocket in the hands of the gunner behind him sending it flying out the door of the little ship only to break up in pieces when it strikes the ground. As the little gunship violently begins its spin, one of the rear-seaters is thrown out the door and left dangling by his tether cord. The other gunner is thrown to the floor and slings his RPG out the door. The launcher strikes the rotor blades igniting the rocket propellant and is sent crashing into the tail rotor, taking out the blades as its secondary explosion makes the entire tail section disappear.

          

     The right-seater reaches for handles in the cockpit as the little ship pitches and flies nose first into the desert floor erupting in a fireball mere yards in front of the convoy. It lands just a few meters from one of the waiting tractor trailers on the ground. Secondary explosions from unfired RPG rockets set off a fireworks show and light up the convoy revealing many strange objects in the target area that weren’t there before. Between the convoy on the ground and the team above, there is a backlight effect of the burning wreckage and it begins to illuminate figures on the ground “Sir, There’s movement around the convoy!” “Sir, now there’s 5 or 6 of those things moving in on that convoy.” Looking through his scope, Ramirez mumbles, “Holy Shit, It can’t be!” T-Boy asks, “What can’t be?”   Ramirez’s gaze through the scope detects a familiar shimmer of light waves moving through the target area. He pulls back from the scope and rubs his eye then returns. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say our old buddies from down south are out there.” He softly mumbles to T-boy, tighten up your straps and peel back those eyes.” “I got a bad feelin’ about this.” “It’s gonna get real ugly real fast!” Ramirez reaches in the collar of his shirt, pulls out a crucifix, kisses it and makes the sign of the cross muttering “Chupacabre!”

     Screams are faintly heard by the team as they watch the ‘bandits’ fall and seemingly being dragged away from their vehicles. The quad .50 roars. It begins to send rounds in all directions and is soon silenced as the crew manning it are also swept away and dragged off into the night. The spiralling tracers fill the air like a child’s art in a night summer’s sky. The heat of body parts and warm blood splatter are recorded by the overhead Global Hawk’s infra-red cameras as well. The music changes to a mariachi band as a round strikes the radio’s tuning knob. All movement in the area stops. The burning wreckage of the helicopter is the only thing visible for the moment.

           

      Back at the makeshift airbase, objects appear to jump up on the van and tear the doors open dragging its occupants off into the surrounding desert. The scene is being captured by the high-altitude Q4. The commanding officer back at the drone control center asks, “Are we getting all this?” “Yes Sir, recording every bit of it.” “What the hell are those things?” “I don’t know but, they’re getting their picture taken today!” “Listen up, everyone in this room!” “This mission is now Above Top Secret!” ‘You don’t even think about what you saw here tonight!” “Is that clear?” A resounding “YES SIR!” form all voices ring out.

      In another control center manned by thee senior officer, (Colonel Cross) (he is palming a baseball) along with several other commissioned and NCO staff witness the carnage. His eyes are fixed on the shimmering object moving across the screen as he remembers what Chewy showed him on his monitor in an earlier meeting. “Launch those damned Apaches!” “Now!” comes the command and radio orders fill the silence. With the destruction of the control van the channels are cleared. “Snow Leader, we are sending air support your way!” “Sir, the threat is not on us.” Carter responds. The commander radios back, “The drone is picking up a hell of a lot of movement surrounding your area. Fall Back!” Carter gives the command, “Fall Back!” Fall Back!”

 

           

** Call Sign Chewy **

A few days earlier:

     A formation of Marine Corps Boot camp trainees jog double-time down a company road singing cadence as they move in perfect unison at their Drill Sargent’s calling. Two of the young marines turn their heads to get a better view and stumble causing half the formation to pile up. The Drill Instructor calls for everyone to fall in and form up. He orders the platoon to half left face and a front leaning rest position. She crosses the street fighting back a smile and chuckle as the young marines begin their push-ups. Our young female pilot in dress blues clinches her purse in hand and reaches to feel the cross under her blouse around her neck. She looks skyward in prayer and makes the sign of the cross. She enters the building removing her cover in traditional military style and reports to the main desk. She is swiftly escorted to a military office adorned in countless trophies and models and photos of every imaginable Marine Corps rotary winged aircraft ever flown.

      She snaps to attention and addresses the officer. “Captain Lasanj’os reporting as ordered sir!” “At Ease Captain!” It is our old flight wing commander, Colonel Cross. “Have a seat”. “Yes Sir, thank you sir and congratulations on your promotion.” “Thank you Captain and might I add, in no small part of your exemplary performance.” “Although, I wouldn’t exactly call this a promotion.” “Do you know why you’re here captain?” “My application for Fighter school sir?”   “Not exactly.” A dejected look comes over her face. “Don’t look so down captain, you’re going to get your shot, just not right now.” “Besides, you’re too damned good an Apache pilot!” “But sir,,,,”   “ I need you for a mission first captain.” I understand you are quite the dancer and acrobat out there lately!” She grins shyly and replies, “Well sir, my parents wanted me to be a gymnast or a ballet dancer but, I always wanted to fly.” “That makes sense because you’ve been called the ‘Ballerina of Death’ out there!” “Tell me again what you saw on your monitor in the jungle.” “Sir, I submitted my debriefing report in writing while still on the Tripoli sir.” “And, that is precisely why you’re here today.” “How would you describe what you saw there again?” “Just wavy air and shimmering outlines of things, nothing more sir.” “How did they move, how fast, how high, how tall?” “Did they look anything like this?”

      He throws an open file of photographs on the desk. They are photos of Velociraptors from Jurassic Park files.   “Where were those taken sir?” “About 200 miles west of your first encounter captain.” “Sir, that would be in the Pacific Ocean, How’s that possible?” The Colonel plays back the Bronco’s camera images of Pterodactyls. We believe there are more creatures as well. This was from your escorts’ cameras. “There are a couple islands offshore, Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna.” “They belong to a company called InGen and they bred these things there.” “Somehow they have escaped and made their way to Central America and Mexico.” Now there is some evidence that they may be getting close to our own border.” “We need every shred of information we can get on these things because now they are a direct threat to us!” “How so sir?” “Illegal aliens are disappearing at an alarming rate in the deserts and mountains along our Mexican border.” “Some odd news stories about those chupacabre’s are littering the airways.” “Animal mutilations and civilian sightings are pouring in all over the I-8 and I-10 corridors.” “The stories are growing in number and we need to prepare!” “No bodies have been recovered, even the ones you’ve shot.” “So captain, how did you target them?” “What did you see out there?” Captain Lasanj’os’ memory goes back to her encounter and the sights of wavy lighted figures in her eyepiece as she trains her chain gun on the attackers. “When I was a little girl, my grandmother told me I had the gift.” “Gift?” “What are you talking about Captain?” “The gift of sight is what she called it sir.” “Show me that gun footage from my mission again sir, I think I can show you what I was aiming at.” Chewy sits in the Colonel’s chair and starts playing back the images of her gun camera footage.

           

      In a remote clearing, two apache helicopters are firing up their engines. The aircrews strap in and test the helmet controlled guns. Ground crews pull all the inspection safety flags and disconnect the ground power starting the jet engines. The number 2 team of night angel calls in on its radio. “Night Angel, Night Angel leader, we are go for takeoff.” Chewy answers. “What are you guys waiting on?” “Ladies First!” the other pilot responds. Chewy grins and replies “Hold on to your butts!” She throttles up and pulls aggressive collective while nosing over dragging the skids a few feet and lifting off just as the rotor blade tips begin to clip the grass in her flight path. The apache leaps several feet and rockets off into the darkness. The second helicopter takes a less aggressive route and has to run to catch up with Chewy. “When you gonna learn to do that?” asks the co-pilot of the second ship. The pilot replies, “I like making it there and back in one piece!”

      Ramirez radios to Carter. “Sir, You’re not gonna believe this but, I think our old friends from way down south are out there!” One of the team members on the flank screams out and gunfire erupts then is silenced. Glistening shapes obscure the night and another team member is knocked off his feet. An inhuman sound is loudly heard throughout the team’s audio headsets in their helmets. It is a shrill and familiar scream to the team. One of the last minute team assignments is knocked to the ground. He screams into his microphone. Something’s got me, I can’t make it out!” They all hear the sickening crunch of bone and gurgle of death from his last transmission.

     Carter gives the order to “fire at will, fire at will!” “Hell, just shoot anything that moves!” “If it shimmers or moves SHOOT IT!” A third member begins to scream and the Mexican team leader looks up just in time to see his team member’s neck and shoulder vanish into a seemingly empty space and his body falls away leaving behind the head barely attached to its shoulders. His weapon fires randomly in an elliptical pattern as he falls to the ground and convulses and spasms. One round manages to knock Carter’s eyepiece off his helmet and the ricochet rings in his ears. Blood is sprayed on his face and he makes out the image of a large headed figure raising its head as if to swallow and then taking gaze directly at him. He fires on the figure and it stumbles and falls backwards with rounds striking it amongst the head and chest area all the while. Iridescent bluish fluid splashes on his face as the unidentified creature collapses at his feet.   The entire task force begins to circle up in a back to back defensive posture like a herd of Musk Ox. The protective fire drives back the shimmering yet unseen attackers.

      Parts of the creature Carter just shot begin to materialize as the shimmering fades to dull grey in random spots. From behind, he hears a sound he has heard before. A high-pitched roar and cry are almost deafening to him as he turns and without hesitation, fires until his magazine is empty. A second creature is hit mid-air in its jump to attack the team of humans. It falls at Lucy’s feet and the overhead sound of rotor blades and the staccato zap of rounds from the 30 mm chain guns of an AH64 chain gun strike dangerously close. “Got you, you sorry piece of shit!” Chewy says to herself. Several more creatures fall nearby. She takes out 3 creatures with one short burst and proclaims “Ahn Ahn Ahnn, you didn’t say the magic word!”

       Chewy and her gunner continue their deadly turkey shoot with Chewy both flying and shooting. “When are you gonna let me shoot Ma’am?” “When you start seeing them junior!” The apache performs the most elegant aerial dances in the starlit sky. The creatures are dropping all around them like flies. The second apache is just hovering off at a distance. The gunner asks his pilot, “What the hell is she shooting at sir?” “I don’t pick up a damned thing!” “Night Angel 2 to night angel leader, what are you shooting at Ma’am?” “It’s the light distortions in your black hot IR.” “They look like the ghost on an old TV screen!” “That’s your target, do you copy?” “Night Angel leader, that’s negative ma’am.” “I can’t acquire any targets Ma’am.” Throughout the transmission, Chewy never breaks stride in aiming and engaging her targets. “Night Angel 2, you just cover the air and I’ll take care of the ground!” “Roger that Ma’am!” “Man, I can’t see a damned thing down there!” “She’s flying like she’s on fire and trying to shake it off!” “She must see something or they wouldn’t be shooting!” “I hope that’s the case and she didn’t just lose it!”   “Just keep your eye on her in case she did.” “She shoots too damned good to take on in a dog fight!” As a few of the creature’s body’s begin to ‘materialize’ into view, Night Angel 2’s crew sees their enemy for the first time. “Mother of God!” “What the hell are those things?”

      Two more creatures fall dead mere yards from him and Chewy’s voice in his earpiece calls out “Snow Team, all clear on your banditos!” “No more movement detected.” “Thank you Ma’am!” “Ma’am?”, “Yes Snow Leader?” “What’s your call sign?” A wide grin crosses Chewy’s face. “Sorry team leader, that’s classified!” Carter tilts his head in disappointment, squints his eyes for a moment then a smile slowly crosses his lips. “Understood Ma’am!” A few moments later a crackle in his earpiece is followed by “Think of me when you have a mouth full of bubble gum.” A grin finally lights up his face and he begins to think about that voice. Carter walks over and stares at a lifeless body, totally alien to him and mutilated by the chain gun save the forehand with an ominous large curved claw and the iridescent glow of the blood of the creature.

     A sweeping view of the target area reveals burning carnage and death. There is only five of the assault team left alive. It is our original team. Remote commander: “Can somebody tell me what the hell just happened?” The Ospreys’ sounds and sights appear at Carter’s back. The Ospreys light up the surrounding area and soldiers begin carrying the bodies of their fallen comrades onto the transports. The bodies of several creatures are collected as well. One creature has a claw hanging by a thin shred of flesh. Carter rips it loose and stuffs the relic in his leg pocket. He reaches down a second time and tears loose a few scales to add to his dog tag chain.

           

     As the Ospreys lift off, CH-47s are approaching with recovery teams for the drugs and whatever else they can collect. Although briefed on the creatures they may see, none of the marines are ready for the sights of the carnage awaiting them on the ground. The Mexican ground team assigned to arrest the buyers, execute their stop early and never make the rendezvous site. Several creatures are standing nearby. Seemingly knowing they are invisible to the humans, they do not attack the greater numbers but simply observe and slip away into the blackness undetected.

     On the return flight to Pendleton, the team sits mostly silent in the Osprey as they gaze at the bodies of their fallen and the one creature loaded on the ship with them. The rest of the creatures were loaded on the other transport. Lucy asks, “What the hell is that thing sir?” “Look at those claws and, that freaky ass skin!” “Sir, is that blood?” “I ain’t seen blood that color since Costa Rico!” say’s T-Boy. “How did it get this far north Sir?” “That’s for the big heads to figure out” replies Carter. “Our job is to kill ‘em!” “Their skin looks like a million little mirrors sir.” “Look how the flashlight shines almost through it!”  

     “Sir, look at that eye!” “It looks like it’s just staring a hole in you and following you no matter what angle you look at it from.” Pontiac injects, “Like one of those weird-ass paintings in the museum.” Carter stomps the creature’s head with his boot soaked in human and creature blood and forces the eyelid shut. “Does that make you feel any better?” He reaches for his dog tags and rubs the scale between his fingers. He pats at his leg pocket to insure the claw is still there.

     At that moment the Osprey’s are crossing over the interstate 5 corridor on their final approach:

 

** Just A Walk in the Dark **

 

     Some young male illegal aliens trying to cross I-5 just passed a sign that warns motorist of "people crossing the highway” (man, women and child running across the road sign) just south of Camp Pendleton. They stop to hide in the brush as the Osprey passes overhead. The leader signals everyone to move on after it passes on. Popping brush and a rapid clicking noise stops them again. They take up hiding positions again under brush and behind rocks. The noise is heard again when everything around them begins to move furiously. They hear the raptors scream out in their excitement. The raptors begin leaping at and on their prey. Like scattered minnows in a pond, the immigrants scatter. One by one they are cut down in the night by the mutant raptors like poached game as their screams go unnoticed against the traffic noise.

           

     The Ospreys land on an empty field inside Camp Pendleton as trucks and Humvee’s await their arrival. Bodies are loaded onto the trucks and head to a nearby hanger. A senior officer assesses the team and the dead then, inspects the bodies of the creatures. “I wonder if this is the same thing that took out the Mexican lab last year.” “It’s a fast bastard sir!” Colonel Cross turns and asks “How Fast?” “45-50 MPH Sir, maybe even faster!”  “You sure about that Lieutenant?!” “Watch the tapes sir.” “Let’s get these things on ice and down to the lab.”  “Get some rest son.” “We’ll debrief at 06:00.” Same as last time, bring all your gear for testing. “Yes Sir!” Carter snaps to attention and gives a sharp salute and turns to walk away. He notices activity outside and a familiar sight of an Apache gunship. “Ramirez!” “Yes Sir!?” “Got any more of that gum on you?” Ramirez tosses a stick from his vest pocket to Carter. “Give me two.” Ramirez looks to Carter’s direction of gaze and grins. “Need some fresh breath sir?” “Something like that, Thanks, I’ll buy you a whole pack at the PX.” He crams both pieces in his mouth and heads over to the gunship.

     Two Apache crews are securing their aircraft on the tarmac a short distance from the hangars. Carter strolls over noting the one female in the group. Chewy barks an order. “Hey Junior, put a couple extra wipes on that FLIR!” “I need it bright and clear for the next time we go hunting.” “Good evening Ma’am.” He comes to a crisp salute as he notices she outranks him by a bar. She returns the salute and continues to attend to her ship. “Good evening Lieutenant, how can I help you?” His uniform is obviously splattered with the blood of his enemies as well as his own men. His eyes are barely visible in the black cammo face paint. His weapon low slung and his blended helmet hung from his belt, he stands with his hands on his hips watching her go about her work. Feeling his stare, she reaches in her pocket, pulls out a clean cloth and tosses it to him. Here soldier clean off that make-up before it gives you a rash.” “You guys caught hell down there tonight.” “Must have been the toughest fight you’ve ever been in!” “No Ma’am, but, it was the second toughest.” Carter wipes as much of the cammo as he can before he uses all surfaces of the cloth. “I will say it got interesting.” He can’t help but feel she is somehow familiar to him. “Have we worked together before ma’am?” He pulls a green bandana out of his pocket and finishes cleaning off his face. “Ever vacation off the coast of Costa Rica?” he asks pointedly. She stops instantly and turns to look him in the eye. As she finally gets a good look at his face, her mind returns to a smiling warrior being dropped on the deck of the Tripoli. With a curious tilt of her head, she examines his features a little closer. “You were there?” “Yes Ma’am, not quite a year ago.” “Deployed off the Tripoli to a little Quonset hut in the bush.” “See any crop circles down there?” Now grinning, Chewy asks with increasing interest. “Just the one I saw hanging from a Blackhawk by a string.” She wipes her hands and reaches for a handshake. “Looks like we have the same travel agent.” “Looks that way Ma’am.” The other crew has finished stowing their gear away and closes the canopy on their gunship.

      Walking past the gunner hollers out, “Hey Chewy, next time, let us shoot a few would ya?” Carter smiles and shakes his head. “Mouth full of gum huh?” “Yeah, a long story.” “Can’t wait to hear it someday.” “So what can I do for you Lieutenant?” “We can barely make those things out face to face.” “What do you see from up there?” “You wanna see what I see?” She asks sharply. Carter replies. “It’s gotta be one hell of a view from up there!” “Hop in the back seat and I’ll show you.” “You don’t get motion sick do you!” She replays her gun camera footage, pauses occasionally and points out the wavy outlines at the moments of engagement. Most of the video is dizzying to watch. Carter is noticeably pale trying to keep up with the moving image. His throat is swallowing hard and trying not to succumb to the nausea. Her flying skills are unbelievable. Then finally, mercifully, she slows the motion and freezes the frame. “There!” “Do you see that?” “Yes, that’s what we see down there!” “This is a lot clearer than the crap on YouTube!” With her same big grin, she quickly responds. “It’s classified.”  

           

     She reaches out her hand to shake his and replies, “Chewy, my call sign’s Chewy.” Carter smiles and looks into her eyes deeply then nervously looks back down at the screen again. “It looks like I owe you 2 drinks Ma’am.” She smiles coyly and relies, “Maybe you do lieutenant, maybe you do.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a couple of the creature scales and drills a hole in them and then a half-broken claw on the nose of her ship with his knife, then shows her his dog tag chain. “Here’s a little souvenir for you ma’am!” “ **Does** Ops know you have these?” “Just you, ma’am.” “They already have plenty of them, thanks to yours truly.” She removes her Dog tag chain and treads the scale and claw on. “Well, I guess this could be my new ‘good luck’ charm.” You got to admit, we’re kind of a unique little club.” “So, that’s what I’m seeing down there.” She turns back to the screen and hits the playback button again. “Now, you see that break in the outline there?”,,,,,,,,

     As ground crew marines load the creature bodies on stainless steel tables, another group rolls them into a room with refrigerated vaults and open one to slide the bodies inside. As another refrigerator door is opened by a gloved hand protruding from a white lab coat. The darkness inside the chamber gives way to cold fog rolling out and the scene changes and we are in the labs of InGen on Isla Sorna.

 

 

** In the Beginning **

     Cut to JP1 20 years earlier:

          

     In the labs of InGen, the Asian scientist  Dr. Wu is manipulating frog DNA for a set of Raptor eggs when he inadvertently, discovers a handkerchief with blood on it. (From John Hammond) The blood is intermingled with the Primordial juices of frog DNA labeled on uncovered pitre dishes are contaminated. After the culture is covered and passed under UV light then placed in an incubator to “bloom”, it is collected by a robotic sampler and the injected into an Ostrich or Emu egg. Sweeping through the lab, there are other stations working on collecting DNA from various animals. Neon tetras, glow fish, octopus, marine fish such as dolphin and the lit up colors of cuttlefish. Tissue samples spread throughout the labs’ tables and shelves being meticulously studied and “toyed” with. When Dr. Wu discovers there has been a possible contamination of an entire inoculation batch, he orders the eggs destroyed but one is inadvertently left to incubate. As he is collecting the “tainted” eggs for destruction a lab technician sets one aside and a nearby robot turner picks it up and sets it back amongst a nearly full clutch of eggs rotating in the incubator. Confused and annoyed, The Technician picks out the wrong egg and tosses it in the trash receptacle.

     We see the egg fall into the chute and a nearby awaiting incinerator where it meets its demise. A complete and perfectly formed raptor embryo writhes and screams in its shell, barely breaking its head free of the shell as it is briskly reduced to ash.

     A few weeks later, in the early morning hours before any staff enters the lab, Dr. Henry Wu is strolling through the yet to be inhabited laboratory with a morning cup of coffee. He peers through the glass into the incubator room and sees an egg pipping. He hastily puts on his lab coat and gloves. As he enters the lab the egg opens but not by an egg tooth like a normal dinosaur but a tiny hand with a characteristic raptor claw, reaches through and pushes the top off the egg and the hatchling stands erect in the shell! The lower half of the shell tips over and the hatchling crawls out on all 4’s and a noticeably shortened tail appears. Its forelimbs are longer and more muscular. Its snout is much shorter than a normal raptor hatchling. Its skin is different. Instead of the smooth bird-like skin of previous raptors, there are tiny layers of scales. They are almost translucent in nature. Most shocking of all, IT IS A MALE! He can tell from the characteristic pin plumage protruding from its head and shoulders. Females should be smooth and lacking any plumage.

         

** (Life Finds a Way) **

 

     The creature stands to its feet again and stares up at our scientist. A low cry exudes from its mouth more human childlike than the shrill of a dinosaur the scientist has heard many times before. The resulting offspring has hatched early and, due to its' strange features should be culled for destruction, (unknown to John Hammond), who insists at being present at the birth of every creature on Jurassic park’s Isla Sorna.  

     He picks up the tiny raptor and places it in a clear container along with all of its egg fragments. He covers it with a cloth and heads out of the lab to the incinerator. He punches in a security code to open the heat resistant doors to expose the waiting inferno. He tosses the shell fragments in and they are quickly consumed in the flames. He reaches down and gently picks up the creature and starts to place it in when he hears a low crying whine from the tiny animal It is hugging his finger and looking up at him as if bonding. Its lips curl almost smiling and it nuzzles the scientists hand with its face and head.

     The scientist looks down at the small wonder in his hand and a tear forms in his eye. He stands for a moment at the open furnace doors and begins to stroke the creature’s head with his fingers. He gently slides the hatchling into his lab coat pocket and closes the doors to the incinerator.

     A camera in the room records the scientist entering the room with the receptacle and leaving with it showing the empty container to the lens. He makes his way to his quarters and is stopped in the hallway by Dr. Harding. “Oh, there you are Dr. Wu.” I was just headed down to the lab to see when you wanted to implant the next batch of Apatosaurus embryos.” Doctor Wu smiles and replies, “I’ll be right back down and we can begin immediately.” “Oh, could you return this transfer container to the lab for me?” We had a hatch failure and I just finished discarding it in the incinerator.” “So we’ll be an egg short in number 4 incubator until we replace it.”  

     Finally making his way back to his room, the scientist gently reaches into his pocket and removes the now sleeping curled up baby raptor and places it in his sock drawer. It is hidden away by a tender-hearted scientist. The creature is raised by the scientist for a few months on site "A”, he hides the creature in his private quarters in a metal foot locker and feeds it chicken scraps from the dining hall. He notices the creature also consumes vegetable matter with no ill effects and realizes it is omnivorous!

     At the end of every day, the young creature crawls into bed with the Doctor and snuggles next to his lower legs. Due to its short snout, it snores much like a pug. Its angelic posture is also pug-like in that it sleeps with its head resting on its folded clawed hands with its shortened tail curling and relaxing as it sleeps. It even appears to dream.

         

** A Long Time Coming **

****

     It’s raining and the skies are dark and dreary. The line is long and seemingly endless. Black umbrellas snake through the grassy grounds and congregate at an awning covering a casket over an open grave poised to receive it. Tim and Lex stand in front of the casket as the priest sprinkles holy water and gives his final words. “To the dust of the earth from which we came, so shall we return.” The party lays their flowers on top of the casket and one by one proceed past the grave in silent reverie. Tim and Lex remain behind and thank the attendees as they leave. The rain begins to subside and the sky clears as the last of the mourners leaves. A tall Asian man from the rear approaches carrying a cane and a small package. He waits until all the mourners have left to approach. He introduces himself to Tim and Lex. “I am Thomas Wu, the son of Dr. Wu who worked for your grandfather on the islands. I have been asked to give you these gifts as Mr Hammond’s attorney. There will of course be a reading of the will but this was a special request by Mr Hammond himself. He hands the cane to Tim but fumbling with his umbrella, he drops it and the sphere on top breaks off and rolls on the ground. Damnit! I’m so sorry for being clumsy! Tim replies. No worries sir, it is yours to do with as you please. He hands the package to Lex and explains. These are my father’s notes form Jurassic park and you should have them. Tim recovers the amber knob from the ground and places it in his pocket. I should tell you that your grandfather made me swear an oath that No one should receive these items but the two of you and only you would know their true value and meanings. I can tell you that my father truly loved his work for Mr Hammond and felt true purpose for his life on the islands. I must admit, your grandfather has been very generous to me and my family and we are forever in his debt. I hope you discover the true meanings of the gifts I leave you for him. Tim and Lex stand staring at each other but have little to say. They stand at the graveside a few minutes and try to absorb everything that has just happened. They survey the headstone once more and try to reason its epitaph. “Spare No Expense!”

     Our Scientists working on saving a couple near extinct species. The Great Andes Condor and Oscillated Turkey. They are spitting insults at each other over the proper way to inoculate host eggs as a result of the Jurassic park study information. Tim’s pug lies quietly on its plush bed in a corner. It raises its head in quiet curiosity and stares at the couple for a moment and returns to its slumber and loud snores. The room hums with Gene sequencing computers and holographic images of DNA strands floating around the room. Posters of endangered animals cover the walls of the room. Lex is reading feverishly from Dr. Wu’s notes and journals. “How are we going to fill in all these missing chunks of DNA?” She is holding several journal pads at once and drops one on the floor. It falls to a half open page on processes to prepare samples for inoculation. The text reads as follows; “I have found the absolute best prep for inoculation to be a 1% mixture of chlorine to water for 1 minute which seems to completely sterilize a host egg of any foreign DNA. After this, a drying time of 1 hour provides the optimum host for blastula implantation. If not given the 1 hour drying time the embryo will certainly fail and itself become denatured, resulting in a foamy mess of protoplasm.” The entire entry had been underlined and even overwritten by hand in several different ink colors. The stack of journals slides out her hand and falls in a heap on the floor. Lex picks up the fallen journals and places them back deep in the shelf.

     (Tim) “Perhaps we should just bathe the eggs in these primordial juices and let osmosis take its course. (Lex) While leaning over the microscope, “Actually, you’re not that far off from how bird eggs ARE fertilized!” “But, You would have me believe that inserting something into the ova like coitus is the only way to inoculate the female germ cell and induce impregnation!” (Lex) “You’re such a caveman! (Tim), “It’s Nature’s way!” “You’re such an asexual Geek!” “Perhaps that’s why you never had a functional relationship!” “You think that computers are the only companion of the mind and you can avoid bodily contact for any physical contact.” “Isn’t that how you got rid of your last boyfriend?” “Why does everything have to revolve around a phallus?” Lex asks Tim. “Basic inoculation of eggs has always involved penetration of the ovum to introduce the germ!” (Lex) “And sex has always been so basic?!” “The ovum must receive the sperm before the shell develops so how do we accomplish that?” “What do you call yourself again?” “I’m a zoological paleologist.” “That would suggest you study ‘long-dead animals’.” “No, I also study their interactions within their given environments. Aside from being called an animal myself, (accompanied with a wink).”

     Tim asks Lex. So depending on which environment you’re in has everything to do with your interactions?” “Remember when we were back on the island and feasting on all those desserts?” Tim reaches over the table and picks up a pitre dish. He shakes it at Lex. “You can’t eat JELLO ™ to this day, can you?!” (Lex) "Just stop it damned you!” “I’m still a hacker and it would be a lot easier if all these notes were in computer code form.” Lex begins looking back through Dr. Wu’s notes and tells Tim, “It’s got to be in here somewhere!” We just have to keep looking.” They continue arguing about the conjecture of incomplete data due to the destruction of site "A", and the need to explore site B more thoroughly. Lex assures Tim.   “That it will never happen and you’ll never get me back on those islands even if they were sterilized!”

         

     Tim sits back in his chair and reclines far enough back to reach a ball of amber that once adorned their grandfather’s custom cane on a shelf and he gingerly tosses it into the air and catches it like a baseball. After a few tosses, the stops tossing it and peers into the inner aspect as a mosquito trapped in the amber comes into focus. Its abdomen clearly gorged with blood. His eyes widen as he peers on the sight now coming into his view. “I’ll be damned!” he exclaims! So that’s where he got it from. Right there! “Grandpa you old Fox you!”

 

** Growing Up Hard **

****

     15 years earlier:

 

     The boat is leaving Isla Sorna just as the hurricane hits. The deckhand who was waiting for the smuggled embryos finally relents and boards the boat and throws off the docking lines. He stares into the darkness muttering “Damn you Nedry!” He stares even harder as lightning strikes beyond the dock and mutters again, “you just lost a crap load of money you dumb ass!” The boat pulls away from the dock and its lights disappear into the rain and darkness.

     Earlier in the day, Dr. Wu is heading to his quarters to pack for the trip to the mainland. He remembers his words to Ian Malcolm about breeding all the dinosaurs as females for population control. He shakes his head and tries to reason why he lied. He can only think of the young raptor hiding away in his room and the impact it will have on the entire operation. What does he do next? Does he tell John Hammond? Should he have destroyed the abomination when he first discovered it as he attempted to in the first place. Did he just discover the next step in evolution? What was he going to do? His mind raced wildly through all the questions and scenarios. He felt a light dizziness as he consternated the possibilities. He enters his room and carefully locks the door behind him. He looks down to see the young raptor lying on a sock curled up next to a picture of his son’s high school graduation picture.   A graduation he missed for working on the island when the first batches of successful eggs hatched. His wife is smiling in the picture but he knows the sadness in her eyes that he was not that to share that wonderful day. There were other sacrifices made along the way as well. He sat on his bed staring at the creature wondering how many more sacrifices he would be called on to make as a result of his decisions. What was he going to do with the raptor once he reached the mainland in the morning? He had a flight booked for home. He cradled his head in his hands and tried to figure his way out of the trials that lie ahead.

     He packs his bag and sets it out in the hallway for the porters to carry down to the dock. He would figure things out as they happened. He passes by the dining hall one last time to gather some food for his inhuman ward and packages it for the waiting trip home. He fills his satchel with soft wash cloths and a box of tissues along with a couple bottles of water to care for the young raptor on their journey into the unknown. Tucking it in and securing the flaps and buckles, he leaves his room for the trip on the tram to the boat. The weather is getting worse.

         

     Traveling through the passage way inside the ship, Dr. Wu runs into Dr. Harding again.  “Oh, Dr. Wu, I’m glad I ran into you.” “I think we’ve figured out what’s been making the Triceratops sick with the help of Dr. Sattler.” Dr. Wu is anxious to get to his cabin with the young raptor squirming in his satchel.  

     Loud creaking noises from the ship mask its faint chirping but it squirms and kicks around inside the shoulder bag making almost obvious movements as it tries to push its head out to see if Dr. Wu is still with him. The bag nearly falls off his arm as Dr. Harding reaches out to catch it for him. Dr. Wu recovers and fains losing his balance on the rocking vessel to disguise the squirming creature within. It manages to poke its tail out of the flap and wags it wildly. It slaps Dr. Wu on the side and he tries to stuff it back in the satchel before Dr. Harding notices. His fingers inadvertently snag a sheet of paper and slide it over the creature’s tail and hide it from view. “Sorry, lost my balance there for a minute.” “Nothing like standing on dry land is there?” asks Dr. Harding. “Well why don’t you meet me in the galley in a bit and we can discuss these findings?” “Sounds great, I’ll be there as soon as I get settled in.” Dr. Wu makes his way to his cabin door and finally entering, locks it behind him.

     Tucked away in his cabin, Dr. Wu unpacks his precious cargo and begins feeding him pieces of raw chicken he earlier took from the gourmet kitchens of the visitor center. (Chicken is a natural source of Lysine) The scientist watches the young raptor feed and is enthralled at his observation. The young creature appears to consume more than its total body volume in the tender morsels of meat. Even the bones are easily crushed in its tiny jaws like wheat biscuits to a child’s teeth. As it chews, the front fangs are noted to give way almost perfect bicuspids and molars in its rounded little jaws. The rolling back and forth in his cabin become heaving pitches as the boat enters the raging seas of the south pacific beyond the jetties and breakwaters of Isla Sorna.

     Lightning flashes in the porthole window and our creature is frightened for the first time in its life. On deck, the crew is feverishly tying down everything in sight in preparation of the storm and waves. As the bow of the large boat crashes through a wave and lightning blinds the cabin through the porthole window, our creature leaps to hug the neck of Dr. Wu and gives out a fearful cry. Its claws dig deep into the skin of Dr. Wu’s neck and blood trickles down his collar. Wincing in pain, he gingerly pries the creature’s claws from his neck and sets it back into its bag. He snuggly tucks the creature in its nest bag. Looking up with wide and wondering eyes, the young creature wraps its paws around the scientist’s fingers this time careful not to extend its razor-sharp claws and muzzles the Doctor’s hands. It releases its grip and backs down into its nest and curls up on its side to close its eyes and begin resting.   

         

     Looking into the mirror, Dr. Wu examines his wounds and notes the characteristic slashes of a velociraptor. He turns to look at the creature now resting in its man-made nest and watches it flinch and jerk with the heaving of the ship and the flash of lightning. The crashes of thunder illicit the greatest jerks from the young creature but, it maintains its position in the bag and only opens one eye to peer at the doctor to insure he is still with him in the room. Noticing that the doctor is looking at him, he quickly closes his eyes to avoid being discovered awake like a child playing “peek-a-boo”.

     Dabbing blood from his wounds, the doctor smiles and reaches down to give the creature a reassuring pat on the head. The creature shifts and digs deeper into its nest as a noticeable smile crosses its face.

     Topside, the world is a different place as wind and seas toss the ship like a bouncing and wobbling dradle. Lunging, diving and listing to its limits, the vessel struggles to remain upright in the battle to maintain course. Crewmembers are on deck to tie down every loose item as the boom and jibs swing wildly in the pitching seas. Furious ocean waves crash over the deck and a sailor is lost in the tempest. The captain exits the pilot house and screams to the top of his lungs “man overboard!” He ties himself to a rail and begins making his way to the cargo deck.

     One after another great waves crash and batter the ship breaking cargo loose from the deck and washing it into the sea. Lines snap under the stress and some crew are crushed under the now free sliding crates and containers on deck. A cable holding the mast and all antennae upright explodes under the pressure of the sea and an E.P.I.R.B is crushed under its weight and the batteries roll over the side disappearing into the black seas below. No distress signal will make it out tonight.

     The captain returns to the pilothouse to search the darkness with a spotlight and binoculars to try and make out any semblance of land. The glimpse of a lighthouse beacon (stationed on the jetties of Isla Nublar is brief and the captain’s gaze is directed upward to witness a rogue wave growing in front of him. The pilothouse sits 35 feet above the ship’s deck that is easily twice the depth into the wave. At the last moment, the faltering ship slides to the left and becomes broadside to the wave. There is only one outcome in this scenario and ship rolls and succumbs to the great wall of water.

     Tossed and rolled, the cabin of Dr. Wu becomes a hamster wheel and the entire contents tossed like clothes in a dryer. Miraculously, Dr. Wu manages to catch the nest bag and tuck it like a football before landing on his back onto the steel framing of the cabin ceiling. An electrical conduit pipe snaps as his rib breaks and pierces his lung. He immediately begins to cough involuntarily and the light hint of blood reaches a corner of his mouth.

          His cabin locker falls onto his lap and he realizes there is something wrong with his leg and then the pain hits him light a freight train. His thigh is broken and he has only one leg to swim with in the fast filling passageway. He somehow manages to free himself and makes his way with one hand to a doorway while maintaining his grip on the bag holding the creature.

     Finally, he is out into the waters of the open ocean. In the midst of a raging hurricane, the boat goes down with all other hands. Deep under the surface, the ships’ lights flicker and go out for a final time. Bodies and cargo slowly fall alongside the dead vessel. Flotsam from the deck of the sinking ship are his only chance to survive and even those pieces sink away leaving him to swim with one hand and cling to his precious cargo with the other. He swims for what seems hours and then a light from the sky begins to separate the clouds as he is finally able to fight no more.

         

     Struggling for hours to stay atop the thrashing waves, Dr. Wu manages to grab random pieces of flotsam and stay afloat. He just now realizes that both his legs are broken and his femur is protruding through his pants. Now he feels the pain and his cries pierce the stormy night as he attempts to straighten out his leg. He somehow manages to control the bleeding but, it is taking its toll on his strength and consciousness.

     The sunrises and his face can sense the heat of the sun. The young raptor is resting curled on Dr. Wu’s waist and slides off into the water as a wave washes over. A sharp searing pain grabs its exposed abdomen. He reaches down and grabs loose a squid that has bitten him with its’ powerful tiny beak. He angrily crushes the squid’s head in his jaws until it releases its hold on him. He takes a couple bites of the windfall food. The tissues reach the raptor’s belly and immediately transfer DNA to its blood stream. Small spots of skin on the raptor begin to flash and light up and the end of its jaw and lips begins to harden. Its feet change and the surfaces on the bottoms and become pitted with oscillating edges like suction cups on the squid’s tentacles.  Most profound is the raptor’s change in body temperature. It has become cold-blooded! They return to a normal appearance after a short time but, its DNA is forever altered from the meal of live squid.

     He soon washes up on the shore of Isla Nublar (site "B") the young mutant raptor standing guard on his back, licking his face and prompting him to move. Waves still washing his limp and lifeless body toward the shore, the scientist still clinging to the young raptor to keep his head above water, the debris-covered beach begins to brighten under the ever growing sun. Storm clouds release their hold and the waves subside and the water recedes.

     The young raptor affectionately licks the scientist’s cheek and pulls at his collar. Searching for any signs of the lost transport ship, a janitor stands on the highest part of the rock jetty and scans the horizon with binoculars. He sweeps his gaze down the beach. He spots the sight of the small dinosaur about a foot tall, apparently feeding on a washed up body and runs to his aid.

     Charging the small dinosaur hollering at the top of his lungs with a raised piece of driftwood in his hands ready to dispatch the feeding carnivore, he discovers the affectionate scene of the young creature licking the scientist’s cheek and whimpering to coax movement. The young raptor looks up at the janitor and cries mournfully as the scientist moves only enough to put his water-logged hand on the creature’s head and soothe its crying.

     He manages to tell the janitor to “take care of this one, he’s special.” He dies soon after and the janitor becomes his newly imprinted parent. The janitor, Joey hides the young raptor away in a supply closet and sneaks food to him until it’s too large to hide. Finally, Joey sets it free in a nearby forested paddock with non-dangerous dinosaurs.   He visits the paddock and brings treats for a while and then one day, the raptor fails to show.

     When another storm frees the dangerous beasts of site “B”, Joey falls prey to a Spinosaurus Aegypticus and the young raptor witnesses the kill. In a sad lonely moment seemingly saddened by the loss of its friend, our creature contemplates what has happened. He sits on his haunches and scratches in the sand when his claw is caught between two root-bound rocks and he struggles to free his hand. He gazes up into the forest and a look of epiphany flows over his facial features.

 

** Time to even the score **

 

     Hiding in a clump of shrubs, the raptor watches the huge dinosaur fight and kill a T-Rex and then begin feeding on the carcass. He is now roughly 4 foot tall. He waits until the Spinosaurus has had his fill and begins to look sleepy.  There is an angry look of cunning and daring on its face. When the great beast appears to doze off, he rushes in and swipes a gaping wound into the giant’s eye.

     Startled and enraged the Spinosaurus lurches aimlessly and tries to gain its feet. It roars in anger and agony while the raptor stands waiting for a chase to ensue. He has been chased by this beast before and each time successfully eluded capture. He runs through brush and into larger timber. Having only one eye to guide its way, the giant adversary must chase after the offender with its head held sideways. Its depth perception is completely gone and it runs into trees and tangles of giant vines. Small trees uproot and limbs snap and crash as the chase ensues. The raptor’s feet and sharp claws help it to run along trees along their sides and climb with ease to evade the larger foe.

     Every hazard it runs into only serves to heighten the beasts growing rage and push it on after the smaller faster and deeply hated offender. The raptor is seemingly smiling as the race becomes more deadly and he even pauses to let the great beast get closer. He is enjoying the thrill of this deadly contest. He plays a game of chase and leads the giant into an area it cannot turn or maneuver in and slashes hatefully at the remaining eye. The great beast reels is head back only to bring down more trees on its neck and strengthen their choke-hold on him. With excited yelps and cries the smaller beast tears away at its throat until it falls and moves no more.

         

     Blood-soaked and appearing to contemplate what has just happened while sitting on the head of the fallen Spinosaurus, we see the raptor enjoying the flesh of his kill and using its claws to wipe and smear more blood on its face, it gives a yelling howl of victory as it stands straight up on its hind legs looking skyward at the now shimmering stars! The constellation of Orion and Leo are clearly visible in the night sky. Like some grade-school chart lines connect the stars to show the perceived shape of each constellation.

      The next morning’s sunrise finds the young raptor sitting alone on the beach near a crude wooden cross placed by the janitor where Dr. Wu died. Our creature sits uncharacteristically human-like on a palm log. With its raptor claw it begins to draw lines and circles in the sand. It’s not very long before the lines become pictographs and amazed with its new-found talent, the raptor begins marking on everything in its reach. It finally manages to scratch out a stick man figure in the sand then, replicates this drawing over and over again on anything it can make a mark in!

     The creature begins acting very irrational about not having its imprinted parents there to care for it. (Flashback its memory of Dr. Wu) The young raptor is now caring for subsequent hatching eggs of others and his own resulting offspring grows larger and more intelligent exponentially. Our specimen now stands close to 7 feet tall and his physique attracts numerous female suitors. He has won several battles with lesser males and has established himself as the alpha.

     Returning to the abandoned lab on a dark and stormy night the creature slips into a mournful, fearful rage much like when it witnessed the death of the Doctor and Janitor. It wanders through the lab to see all the "mistakes" and witnessing the resulting dissections made during the previous experiments send its mind into to a spiralling distrust and rage of humans. A broken video screen plays a looped recording of scientists dissecting a raptor. The creature watches for a while then finishes off the video screen in a rage. The creature slashes at the electrified monitor and is grabbed by the AC current. As it stands in a puddle of chemicals and spilled DNA test samples, the electricity conducts through its body causing convulsive reflexes.

         

     On a molecular level, inner transformations take place and the villi in its gut grow several times their original length and width. They thrash at each other like the heads of a mythological hydra competing for any food in the creature’s gut. Even more amazingly, they begin to assimilate the proteins and change color with each different food type! After a few moments of being electrocuted, the power dies and the young creature slumps to the ground unconscious.

     A short while later, dazed and still groggy, we find our young raptor wandering again on the beach on the morning after the storm, our creature happens across a smoldering dead tree that had been struck by lightning the night before and sniffs the smoke. The blast from its nostrils brightens the embers and he snorts again. He seems puzzled by this reaction and snorts at the embers again. Again, the embers brighten. He snorts at them again and again as if amused by his new found abilities. As he continues to amuse himself, the embers ignite a small flame that continues to grow until a flame grows and it is astonished. He watches in amazement as the flames grow and begin to engulf the dry section of wood. He looks around and picks up a small limb and throws it on the flames only to see it consumed by the fire as well. He grabs another nearby limb and the result is the same. He begins to actively hunt more objects including shells, sand and rocks along with more limbs and palm leaves and before long has built a small bon fire.

     He notices his shadow and at first growls and snarls at it. Then like a playful little dog, he begins to play with it. He is hopping and dancing with his shadow in the light of the fire as it glows against a large boulder. Rains return and the fire is extinguished and he draws likenesses of other dinosaurs feverishly in the sand and is using a limb of a tree to do it! The drawings are astoundingly accurate and detailed. He litters the beach with them, creating pictorial herds in the sand! The tide washes his drawings away as a twin engine plane roars low overhead.

     Our mutated creature witnesses the humans trying to steal raptor eggs and leads other raptors to hunt them down and retrieve their offspring. (Jurassic Park 3.) Our creature is the Alpha of the island being one of only a handful of males. His calls are recognizable among all other raptors on the island. His rule and status among all raptors in undisputed.

     After a group of raptors retrieves the eggs from the humans, he calls them together to assign new missions to attack when overhead; a group of flying pterodactyls swoops down and gathers the newly retrieved eggs. While the Pterodactyls are escaping the island they look up into the cage-free sky and decide to join the exodus, they clutch tightly to the raptor eggs and carry them away for "travel snacks". The genetically altered raptor stands upright and cries out. Its voice rolls from a raptor scream to an almost human ‘NOOOOOOO!’ as the eggs are taken out of sight.

 

 

** School Daze **

 

 

     Posters of dinosaurs and pterodactyls hang on the face of the museum. Lex is making her way up the large granite front steps of the building to host a school fieldtrip. She is wearing a tight little red dress and a lab coat (just slightly longer than her dress) over her arm; (Lexie) struts passed some constructions workers overhead on scaffolds. As she hears their radio play, she decides to ham it up a little with her strut to the tune of "Those shoes by the Eagles". They wolf whistle and one even drops his lunch thermos causing it to shatter on the sidewalk below. She smiles and breaks into laughter at their foolishness. A security guard tips his hat and holds the door open for her. Today, she is the star. A group of schoolchildren are touring the facilities on a fieldtrip while one of the researchers answers questions.

     A child asks "how do fish get to lakes in the deserts with no rivers?” She explains to the children how the usual method is they are carried on the scaly legs of wading birds that fly from place to place searching for food and deposit the eggs many miles away to populate the new water with life. One child raises his hand and is recognized by Lex. “Is that how the dinosaurs got here to Mexico?” “What dinosaurs in Mexico?” Millions of years ago, that may have been the case but, not today.” “My Mom and Dad says there are dinosaurs in Mexico now and they’re too big to get here on birds feet.” “And they said they’re eating people too.” Another child pipes in, “It’s all over the news and internet these days.” Lex smiles and reassures the young boy that any possible dinosaurs left are trapped on an island hundreds of miles from land and too big and too far for any birds to carry. Her mind is instantly troubled and she flashes back to her own encounter with the beasts.

     Children continue to raise their hands and ask questions but the words are jumbled and incomprehensible to her. She feels her pulse quickening and sweat forms on her brow and upper lip as she begins to feel nauseated. She grabs a handkerchief from her coat and quickly excuses herself and half runs to the nearest restroom.

     Once inside, she rests against the closed door and tries to catch her breath. Her nausea subsides and she steps up the lavatory to wet some paper towels for her face. She drops them on the floor and just reaches into the cool water to splash her face. She reaches for some more paper towels and stands to dry off when she opens her eyes to look in the mirror. At that moment outside the restroom, a janitor slides a mop bucket on the tile floor making a screeching, chattering, skipping sound. Her face and eyes lock onto the raptors’ behind her and she begins to quiver and shake uncontrollably as she did with her first raptor encounter.

     Over her shoulder is a poster of a raptor’s head and neck on an ad promoting the museum’s current exhibit. She startles and screams but realizing it is only a poster and regains her composure. A knock on the door from the school teacher asks if she is Ok. She replies she’s fine and will be out momentarily. She rips the poster down, crumbles it up with a rage and stuffs it into a trash bin.

     When she steps out of the restroom, there are several children with mechanical dinosaur puppets playfully roaring and snapping at her. She lunges backwards against the door before she realizes it is only the children playing. “Oh My!” “You scared me!” She relaxes and begins to laugh again, nearly in tears.   She tells the group what a joy they have been and excuses herself to leave. The children on cue and in unison loudly cheer, “Thank you Doctor Lexie!” A nervous smile crosses her lips and she hurries out the front doors of the museum.

     She arrives to her car and sits back to collect her thoughts. She begins to search the web on her smart phone and finds article after article about sightings and reports of strange beasts and mass missing person’s reports throughout Mexico and Central America. In a response of overwhelming shock, she puts her hand to her mouth and says, “My God, it’s true!” Then her phone begins to ring from an incoming call. It is Tim. “When are you getting back here?” “I have something you need to see!”

 

 

** On a Dark Desert Highway **

****

****

     On southbound interstate 5, at sunset, a broken-down tractor trailer is being worked on by its driver. It is a refrigerator truck hauling seafood across country. In front of the truck is a sign warning of possible people crossing the highway. Slipping stealthily through the post rainstorm lush desert growth, a group of 4 raptors materializes and makes a short meal of the driver. Inside the open door of the trailer iced down seafood of all sorts, the creatures begin to rummage through the iced and covered containers. Like looters during a riot, the raptors find in one bin an ice water tank of live octopus and cuttlefish crawling sluggishly in their refrigerated and cramped environment.

     The raptors curiously examine the undulating tentacles and test the prey that holds their curiosity. One raptor reaches in and receives a painful bite from an octopus beak and then tears into the cephalopods. Other raptors join in devouring every last one of them. Traveling through their alimentary canals the DNA of the octopus and cuttlefish are assimilated with their own and the raptors begin to “light up” and change colors and textures as they sleep off their meal in a nearby cave.

     The next evening, as they awaken and venture out into the desert twilight their skin tones begin to take on the characteristics of cuttlefish and camouflage them perfectly against their backgrounds.

     Shortly after passing the same broken down truck, our female scientist is having difficulties of her own traveling back to the lab after dark when she has a blowout on the highway.

     As she rolls to a stop on the side of the road, she is parked adjacent to our "warning sign", "crossing families".   She slides out of the seat in a gorgeous little black dress in heels to check her tires. As she surveys her tires, she notices a curious "tear and stain" on the sign. The radio in her car is now playing Eagles “One of these nights” She dials her cell phone to ‘triple A’ and the operator answers “Triple A roadside assistance, how may I help you?”

     She gives instructions to the operator who already has her GPS coordinates and the reply comes back, “We have you located on southbound I-5 and are dispatching a service truck your way now. The operator asks if she wants them to stay on the line with her and she politely answers “No thank you, I’m fine.” Her attention returns to the roadside sign and she examines the splatter on its surface. It appears to be blood but the accompanying tissue with it appears to be scaled in nature. And littered on the ground beneath the sign, she finds piece of strange tissue and shredded clothing.. She recovers a few tubes, an envelope and a sterile swab from her car and secures a sample, placing it in her lab coat pocket. As she puts away the collected samples, the headlights of a tow truck pull in behind her.

     The dispatched driver sent to assist her is awe-struck by her beauty and tries to make small-talk with her while he changes her tire. She politely thanks him and at his insistence gives him the phone number to the pizza parlor just down the road from the animal park. She slides back into the driver’s seat and scorches tires returning to the interstate. The young driver stands staring in admiration as she drives away. He has managed to shoot a few pictures of her with his cell phone and begins examining his pictorial treasures. He hears a strange sound and rustling in the nearby brush. He looks up just in time to see one of our creatures. He throws his hands up to protect himself. The raptor lunges forward to take his outstretched hand into its mouth. It takes the driver to the ground and tears at him with its deadly claws. No traffic passes for several minutes giving the beast ample time to drag its prey from view of the interstate.

     Several of the creature’s heads emerge from the tall brush at the ringing of a cellphone is stuck on its claw scrolling pictures of the pretty red-dressed scientist as the claw oscillates back and forth across the touch screen of the cell phone. Red tail-lights from our scientist’s car speed and fade away out of sight while the creature finishes its meal on the side of the road. A dispatcher on the other end of the line is trying to give the tow truck driver another assignment. There will be no more calls made tonight. Pulling the curious object from its claw, the great beast squeezes the phone in its grip until its claws pierce and crush the phone. A small flashing spark signals the death of the phone and it is dropped near the remains as dead and broken as its owner.

     As she returns to the lab, an investigative news reporter and private pilot waits near an old white Ford pickup truck to talk to the scientists about a recent discovery of remains in the desert near a suspected massacre scene of illegal immigrants. He wants their help to identify some remains of an unknown animal wrapped in a parachute he used to escape certain death when his small plane went down after striking the creature almost head-on in the desert, while trying to overfly and film the cordoned off scene. He relates his story to them as the scene is relived. He shows the couple what is left of his video, (With broken digital video glitches of Pterodactyls carrying more eggs in their clutches). The video shows one of the large bird-like animals flying head-on into the small plane and the pilot’s parachute descent to the ground and walk up approach to the fallen animal.

     They are stunned at what they are seeing and even make assumptions that someone has gone to great lengths to produce the video and the possibility of CGI film production. The pilot swears time and again that what they are seeing is what he filmed just prior to his crash. “OK, If you don’t believe me, believe this!” He pulls back the chute and shows them the remains. They stare at each other with amazement and disbelief. The body shows obvious marks of having been struck by a fast spinning propeller and some parts are missing all together. Our scientists identify the partial remains of the creature as a pterodactyl or Pteradon. The egg fragment is not identifiable but speculated as being similar to an ostrich or emu-like egg. Tim stares long and hard at the egg fragment as though he’s seen this before. His memory drifts back to the nest found in Jurassic park while Alan Grant was leading them to safety years ago.

      

     After a short debate about involving the authorities, they decide to refrigerate the remains and ask the reporter / pilot to keep this a secret until they can run some more testing on the carcass. They contain the remains in a vacuum sealed container and bury it deep in back of a freezer unit.

     I’ll hold off but, I don’t want to get scooped on this story! Lex assures him that they will tell no one! He agrees and leaves a copy of his video tape with the scientists. The following weeks of testing reveal the remains have many different DNA possibilities and the egg fragments are indeed NOT from a modern emu but, contain strands that match more closely to that of the Pterodactyls’. Lex calls the reporter to share her findings. She and Tim have been discussing how to handle the specimen and after their second meeting decide that the reporter should take a portion of the specimen to the authorities and leave part with them in secret for research. They would later ask for the specimen publicly to avoid attracting any unwanted attention from the government. It’s a win – win situation for everybody. The very next evening news channels from all over begin to report the story. Tim and Lex are in their lab watching and give nods of approval to each other.

 

** The Hunt **

 

 

     A couple hunters are shooting California quail when a Pterodactyl flushes from a nearby ravine and flies over carrying an egg. One hunter pulls lead on the flying giant and squeezes the trigger. The giant bird lurches and folds its wings twirling to the ground. They walk up to the beast that has dropped an egg unseen to the hunters in a brushy gorge and are astounded by their trophy. Half drunk, one tells the other, “that’s the biggest and ugliest quail I’ve ever seen!” The other remarks “Sure Got a Purdy mouth!” “I hope we didn’t break no damned laws shootin’ this thing!” “Yeah, let’s just leave it for now and go find some more quail”. The egg rolls gently down a shallow slope and comes to rest near another pterodactyl clutching an egg that is startled by the shot and abandons its cargo. In the desert sun, we see the eggs end up a few feet from each other as they start to pip and hatch.

     They load their quarry and drive to a nearby roadside diner and show off their prize. A traveler passing through takes a picture with his cell phone and uploads it the web. The owner comes out and takes Polaroid pictures to pin on the café’s walls next to other hunting and fishing pictures strewn about. Within hours several military vehicles pull up to the diner. Uniformed soldiers, led by an officer enter the building and stop in front of the cashier’s station. “We’d like to ask a few questions about a couple hunters who were in here earlier.”   They notice several Polaroid photos of the creature and the proud hunters pinned and taped to the wall behind the cashier. The officer motions with his head to the soldiers and they quickly pull down the pictures and place them in a brief case. That’s old Randy and Russel. The group of soldiers begin asking everyone in the building for any phones and cameras. They check through the albums and delete any pictures they find of the creature. All the devices are scanned and the phones cloned with rapid efficiency by a few devices in cases that the soldiers have carried in with them. Some patrons protest but are quickly convinced to cooperate at rifle point. The manager tells the officer that they live a few miles down the road and guide Quail hunters through here sometimes. “They drink a good bit but never cause any trouble.” “Did they kill an endangered species or something?” “Are they in some sort of trouble?” Without answering the manger’s question, the officer addresses the crowd inside the restaurant and apologizes for any inconvenience they may have caused but warns them it is a matter of national security. One of the soldiers had been taking pictures of everyone in the building. I will ask you to keep this to yourselves until we get a handle on the situation. Thank you for your cooperation in this matter. The officer stops at the door as he steps out and makes a sudden stop. Behind his sunglasses, a big grin crosses his face and he loudly tells the crowd. “God Bless America!” He leaves with the soldiers and say's.  I always wanted to do that!  They speed of own the road toward the hunter’s camp.

         

     Sitting on benches skinning and fleshing out the pterodactyl hide for tanning, our hunting buddies are drinking beer and listening to country music. Several military vehicles pull up in the driveway and soldiers unload and begin setting up a parameter. The officer and his assistants approach the hunters who are still a bit confused over all the commotion. The officer addresses the hunters. “Heard you two had a bit of good luck this morning.” The partially fleshed out head of the pterodactyl is lying on a work table and the two hunters put their knives down and raise their hands as if being held up by robbers. “We don’t want no trouble mister!” What did we do wrong?” “Relax boys, You haven’t broken any laws but, we will have to take that thing with us.” “Where exactly did you shoot it?” Randy answers, “well, he shot it with number 6 shot so I guess you could say all over.” Russel punches Randy I the arm and speaks up. “No you damned fool, he wants to know where we were when we got it!” Randy walks over to the shop wall and lifts a ‘girly poster’ up exposing a topographical map. “Gotta keep our spots a secret you know.” “Otherwise, everybody and their brother kill all our birds out from under us.”

     He points to a spot on the map and the officer pulls the map off the wall and marks it with a pen. He hands it to an assistant and instructs him to get the satellite map of the coordinates and get a team on site. Russel protests about them taking his map and the officer tells him, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you a new one and some of our fancy satellite maps of the same area, complete with GPS coordinates.” But, we ain’t got no GPS either.” “I guess I’ll just have to get you one then, don’t I?”

     The soldiers place everything in refrigerated containers. A large van pulls up and several hazmat suited workers begin scanning and spraying down the two men and their compound. The ranking officer hands the men a brief case and tells them it is compensation for their loss. Randy opens the case to see a couple stacks of fresh twenty dollar bills and a hand-held GPS unit. The officer proceeds to remind them that disclosure of any of the preceding events is grounds for prosecution and imprisonment. The officer gets himself a beer out of the hunter’s cooler, takes a swig and swallows hard. “I always wondered what this iguana piss tasted like.” The officer notices that there are mounted quail all over the walls and in display cases. “How much do you get for a good day’s Quail hunting?” Shoot mister, looks like you get one on the house!” “I’ll be in touch then.”

     They load back up in their Humvees and drive away. Over the next few weeks, several more pterodactyls are shot by hunters and land owners and the military briskly confiscates the carcasses and they are preserved and crated off to a lab. Others are preserved, crated and shipped off to a cavernous warehouse and stored among countless other crates.

 

** Problems and Solutions **

 

 

     Back in the lab, while the scientists are working diligently on an answer to the extinction problem, Tim peers into the ball of amber and is mesmerized at the mosquito with the engorged abdomen full of blood. In much the same fashion as in the first Jurassic Park, the amber is drilled into with a micro bit and a needled syringe extracts the congealed preserved contents of the abdomen. “Do mosquitos fly above 5,000 feet?” Lex answers, “I don’t see why not.” Let’s find out.” (Gene sequencers are humming in the background) He mutters “there’s got to be something here we’re missing!” He continues to stare at the amber-clad mosquito. Lex thumbs through an entomology text and finds her answer. “That’s a definite Yes!” “Then we need to visit those nesting areas!”

     The small teams travel to Costa Rica and southward to Peru, to the northern Andes ranges and collect mosquitoes and biting flies in and around nests of the endangered condors. Then back to Costa Rica for samples from the Oscillated Turkey. They inspect nearby trees for any sap and find a treasure trove of entrapped insects. Mosquito traps quickly fill with live and freshly killed specimens and they have their quota of specimens. In the early morning light, Tim and Lex are driving to the Pacific coast to survey one of the rain forests on their map. They top a ridge and the sight ahead is anything but the lush green sight they had anticipated.

     Square miles of charred wasteland lay out before them. Tim pulls over and with a dejected look, slams the shifter in park. Lex stares out over the landscape and tears begin to stream down her face. Tim reaches his arm over her shoulder and pulls her close as she begins to sob. “What have they done?” “Damned fools!” Don’t they know they’re killing us all?” Tim drives down the ridge and into a small field that is just returning green with new foliage. They exit their vehicle and walk through the incinerated landscape. Great trees that once stood together as giants lay burnt and shattered. Lex notes that there seems to have been no logging signs anywhere. No equipment trails; No stacked logs; No piles of chippings anywhere. Just burst and burnt trunks of the once great giants. And the soil is soft with ash that floats into the air with each step.

     Melted globs of amber rest on some of the downed trees and Tim works feverishly to collect them for examination later. He rolls a burnt log over to reach one of the globs. Beneath the great trunk, he discovers a partial skeleton. Although the head is crushed, the sight is unmistakable. It is a raptor! He backs away slowly and a cold sweat rolls down his face. Lex is surveying the new green growth rising through the ash. Large ferns are growing from the dead trunks and even an orchid is budding from the surrounding death.

     Tim carries his bag of specimens back and calls to Lex to meet him back at the truck. Lex takes a few quick photographs and heads back to join him.   Tim asks Lex. “Find anything interesting out there?” “No just regeneration that will probably take decades if not centuries.” Tim bites his lip to not tell Lex about the skeleton. “Yeah, can’t wait to get back to normal.” The trip they thought would take months is over in mere weeks.

     They arrive back home to begin long hours of testing. Back in the lab early one morning, Tim walks in carrying his pug ‘Le Le’ under his arm. He sets him on the floor and walks over to a cabinet and pulls out a treat then, gets his dog to sit and speak for the treat. He starts a pot of coffee. He strolls over to the printer station in front of the gene sequencers and notices a printout titled “Compatibility”. He checks the data. It matches the hypothesis and he picks up the phone and dials Lex on her cell phone. She’s driving in with the top down. It’s a beautiful morning and she was headed to the beach when the call comes in.

     “We have it!” “We have the solution!” “How soon can you get down here?” “Come On!” “It’s my day off, can’t I have just one day without you ‘bugging’ me?” Hey at least I didn’t ask you to babysit Le Le.” He reaches above his desk and pulls out another milk bone and gives it to the eager pug. “Like she’s that hard to watch.” “All you need is enough dog treats and she’s an angel!” “Besides, I’m not cleaning doggy poop off the beach after her.” “Alright, just come in as soon as you can!” I just ran the gene sequencing and we don’t even need a splice to work it in for fertilization.” “It fits perfectly and doesn’t distort either helix!”   “Alright! I’ll come in this afternoon after I get some sun!”

     Lex pulls into a parking bay and gathers her blanket and bag then heads down to the beach. Lying in a nice spot next to her destination is Chewy. She’s already soaking up rays and listening to her I-pod. There is no sign of anything military around her and she too is enjoying a day away from work. Lex shoves her beach umbrella into the sand and inadvertently shades Chewy’s face from the rising morning sun.

     “Well good morning to you too missy!” Realizing what she has done, Lexie quickly pulls her umbrella and begins apologizing. “Oh I’m so sorry ma’am!” “Don’t call me ma’am, it’s my day off and no uniforms out here!” “Oh, you’re military?” “Yeah but, not today.” “How interesting?” “What do you do?” “Long story but the short of it is, I fly helicopters.” “And You?” “I’m afraid my job’s not so interesting, I’m a molecular biologist.” “Sounds pretty interesting to me, what do you study?”   “Endangered species mostly.” I’m Lex, Lex Hammond-Murphy, and Nice to meet you!” “Maria, Maria Lasango’s but, you can call me “Chewy” like everyone else.”   “Chewy?” “That’s an odd nickname.” “Actually, it’s my call-sign”. “You sure don’t look like military to me.” “Am I supposed to look a certain way?” No, No, I just meant,,” “It’s OK, I get that a lot.” “Taking a day off?” Lex asks. “Yeah, first one in a while.” Just back from deployment and ready for some sunshine that doesn’t include jet fuel fumes and combat. “My!, you are interesting!” “It becomes a bore after a while.” “Just want to close my eyes and work on a nice quiet tan for a change.” “Sorry, I’ll leave you to rest.”

     Lex’s phone gets a text message from Tim. “You really ought to see this sequence!” “I’ll send you a photo.” A moment later, she gets the picture of the perfect sequencing and responds. She thumbs through her phone and finally gets to the photograph sent by Tim. She enlarges it and studies the gene sequence. “Wow!, That is a perfect match!”  Lex texts Tim back and tells him she’ll come to the lab when she finishes at the beach. Putting her phone back in her beach bag, she sees Chewy shift positions on her blanket and a glint of sunlight catches her eye.

     “That’s an interesting necklace you have there!” Lex notices the disc-shaped objects on Chewy’s dog tags. “Oh a friend gave them to me.” She reaches around her neck and pulls the raptor claw around front and Lex gives out a half-breathed scream. Her eyes are fixed in terror as she recognizes the claw. “What’s wrong?” “Where did you get that?!” Lex begins pushing herself back away in fear as Chewy realizes something is very wrong. “I told you, a friend of mine gave it to me.” “What’s wrong?, You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

     Lex jumps to her feet and backs away. “Hey!, wait a minute! What’s wrong?!” “I know what that is!” “Where did you get it?!”   “The scales came from Costa Rica and the Claw from Mexico, Why?! “Oh my God!” “Costa Rica, Mexico?!” “There’s No way!” Lexie remembers the little boy at the museum telling her about dinosaurs in Mexico. Her terror is more obvious than ever now. “There’s no way they made it to the mainland!” “That’s impossible!”

     Chewy reaches out and grabs Lex by the hand as she tries to stand and leave. “Hold on a minute, how do you know about these things?!” “Those are classified!” “Who are you?” Lex is hastily gathering her things to leave. She is terrified at the sight of Chewy’s necklace. Chewy reaches up and grabs Lex by the arm and asks again, “Who are you and how do you know about these things?!”

     “I told you my name and that should be enough!” “Hammond, wait!” Those Islands off Costa Rica, your father,”   “No, my Grandfather, John Hammond had the labs on those islands and created those monsters and now you tell me they’re here on the mainland and now Mexico?!” Her voice becomes more shrill. Chewy pulls Lex hard enough to sit her back down on the sand and begins to calm her back down. Chewy removes the necklace and stuffs it in her beach bag behind her and out of sight of Lexie. Lex continues to just stare over Chewy’s shoulder at the bag. Her face and lips trembling and her whole body begins to shake like Jell-O. Chewy grabs her by the face and makes eye contact with her. “Listen to me; you need to tell me what you know!” Lex begins to cry and tells her about her and Tim’s encounter with Raptors on the island as children.

     

     Chewy is enthralled by her story and hugs her as she finishes her tale. The two gather their belongings and walk back up the beach to their parking bays. Lex then tells Chewy about their current work in the lab as a result of her grandfather’s work and discoveries. Chewy and Lex swap phone numbers and drive off in separate directions. Lex composes herself on the drive back to the lab. She walks in the lab wearing a wrap over her bathing suit. Tim could see she had obviously been crying asks her what’s wrong. “Come here and let me show you what I’ve found.” He starts showing her the files downloaded from the gene sequencers and the spreadsheets matching the splices. She is happy to see the data but her face tells a different story as her thoughts grapple with her encounter. Tim walks over to the refrigerator and he pulls out a bottle of champagne, He pops the cork and Lexie snaps into the present. “Hey! We were saving that!” “For Today, I guarantee it!” Tim replies. Lex grabs Tim’s wrist while he pours and exclaims, “We have to talk!” She relates her story to Tim and he begins to shake and drops the bottle of champagne on the table spilling it over onto the floor.

     She relates her story to Tim and even though he cautions her about talking to the military, he understands the fear she must have felt seeing that raptor claw. “You mean to tell me that raptors are on the mainland and as far north as Mexico?” “So, what else do you think they know about us?” Tim tells Lex she needs to sit down. He tells her about the skeleton in the burnt out rainforest and they both sit in silence staring at each other.  
     

** Time to Come Clean **

****

****

          Chewy stomps into the barracks and several marines jump out of their bunks half asleep after Night-Ops exercises. They are still in ‘T’ shirts and boxers. She puts her finger to her lips to hush their noise and the 2 marines snap to attention and salute her. She returns the salute sharply and walks down the aisle until reaching Carter’s office. She grabs him by the ear and he reacts instantly grabbing her by the throat. He realizes who she is and jumps out of his bunk and to attention in his boxers and delivers a sharp salute. “Ma’am!” “Answers right now Lieutenant!”

     She paces around in the office rubbing her throat as he stands frozen and follows her with his eyes in nothing but his boxers. Her raised voice carries out into the barracks and is heard by the rest of the team. The two marines still standing at attention in the aisle begin to relax and laugh but quickly look at each other with worried looks on their faces. They snap back to attention.

     In the office, Chewy pulls her necklace off and throws it on the desk. “Do you have any idea where these things come from?” Carter is still dumb-founded and drowsy as he tries to find an answer to her question. “You know exactly where they came from. “You were there!” “That’s not what I’m asking.” “I’m asking you if you know where these damned things came from to begin with?” “I don’t understand your question, what do you want me to say?” Do you remember those Islands where they made all those damned dinosaurs? “I seem to recall something about that in the news years ago.” “Well, I just talked to John Hammond’s granddaughter and she remembers exactly where these things came from. And from her reaction to this souvenir, it wasn’t anything nice and she is absolutely terrified because we found these things on the mainland!” We have to take this to command and brief them on these creatures!” She tells him that Colonel Cross has already told her about the Islands and INGEN. “I still think there’s a lot they’re not telling us!” “So, Get your ass dressed and let’s go now!”

     Carter gets into his uniform and meets Chewy outside the Colonel’s office. “What can I do for you two this morning?” Chewy and Carter remove their dog tags and hand them to the Colonel. Are you resigning your commissions for some romantic bullshit or something?” “No Sir!” They answer in unison looking at each other. “It’s those creatures sir.” Chewy responds. “I think I know where they came from!” Pushing back his chair from his desk and leaning back, the Colonel responds, “Isla Sorna and Isla Nublar off the coast of Costa Rica from INGEN labs, we already know.” “You and I have already discussed this Captain!” “Why all the excitement now?” Chewy and Carter look at each other dumb-founded. The Colonel continues. “We knew for sure right after your mission on the Tripoli.” We didn’t have confirmation until you brought more back from Mexico.” We should have sterilized those islands years ago but, bleeding heart animal lovers have sealed them off as some kind of sick monstrous ‘Nature Preserve’!” “Sit down and listen.” I’m about to brief you both on a mission you just volunteered for.” “Or, I could lock both of you up in a psychiatric ward where no one will ever believe your story.” “So, you in?”

     “Yes Sir!” They respond in unison. “Here’s what we know so far.”

****

  
 

** Snake Bit **

****

 

     Tim and Lex are busy putting their new-found knowledge to practice. Incubators are running in every corner of a renovated building and it is reminiscent of the labs back at INGEN on the islands. They implement their findings into their own projects and the results are very positive. Endangered species offspring are becoming prolific in the zoo! The zoo’s success becomes first page headline fodder and evening news lead stories as presses run throughout the dark of night.

     Back in the desert, the transplanted offspring are rapidly reproducing and feeding off everything from cactus; coyotes and farm animals to unlucky illegal aliens. Their DNA is assimilating proteins in their gut and mutating their offspring, their skin color changing from green to dark tan and an unnatural hue of blue green grey. Their pupils are losing their elliptical shape and rounding out in shape. In a densely brushed rolling desert several creatures make their way through the desert night. Resting quietly under the overhang of a stone, a rattlesnake is just waking from its hot days slumber when a creature steps on part of its coiled body.   It strikes out burying both fangs deep in the flesh of the raptor’s calf.

     Clinging with all its voracious strength, the rattlesnake pumps its deadly venom deep into muscle tissues and seeps into the bloodstream of its surprised victim. The raptor leaps and screams with surprise and pain. The snake clings by its fangs and flails as the raptor leaps and stampers around still unsure of what has happened. Seeing the snake locked by its teeth to its leg, a sudden angry rage comes over the creature reaches down with its jaws and raises its leg to close the distance and snaps at the rattlesnake sending different ends of the slender body flying in two different directions. Very little bluish blood oozes from the two distinct puncture marks. As the venom courses through its veins, our raptor roars and screams in agony.

     Some tissue is necrotized by the toxin and then amazingly, the tissue regenerates and begins to morph. The scales around the wound begin to move rhythmically like the crawling belly scales of the previous offender. The tissue in the roof of the raptor’s mouth begins to striate and form retracting fangs dripping their own toxic venom. The creature licks its chops and flairs open its mouth as if it were showing off to its’ a new-found talents. The alpha of the pack screeches and roars at the subordinate for its show of aggression. The subordinate arches back its head and neck then leaps and buries its new fangs deep into the base of the neck of the alpha. The alpha reels and screams and then falls writhing hideously to the ground. After a few moments of metamorphosis much like the first raptor, it slowly regains its feet and bows its head as it shows submission to the New Alpha.

     The rest of the pack is attacked in similar fashion with the same repeated results. Days later, the group joins up with more raptors and a frenzy of biting begins. A thunderstorm passes overhead and lightning illuminates the cave. Raptors become increasingly agitated and begin to nip and bite at each other. The modified raptors random biting ensues and others begin to mutate. Eventually, the scene is that of raptors jumping, biting and laying around recovering like a swarm of hellish vampires at a blood-fest ball! The bones and rotting corpses of their prey lay strewn about the cave. Only scorpions and Gila Monsters are left unscathed in the chaos.

         

** Breaking News **

 

 

     On the news, a clip begins to play about the "illegal alien problem in California". (Our sign warning of people crossing the highway is shown in the background again) Newscasters comment on interviews and clips (Led by Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger). While San Diego relishes in the success of their "restricted border campaign", it is ironically titled "The Chupacabre Initiative". There has been unprecedented success in controlling the influx of illegal aliens into the area. All the while, the creatures have been consuming and reproducing from the spoils of their "good hunting". Once rare but now becoming more frequent, Chupacabre sightings are also making the news.

     A simple looking couple standing in front of their worn out truck with curious gouges in its sides, tells their story of an encounter with the creatures that run upright at speeds matching that of their vehicle. “Hell, I had to do 70 just to get away from those damned things!” The driver tells the news crew. Conspiracy theorists comment on "Government propaganda" and UFO sightings in the desert to explain the decrease in the illegal immigrant problems.   Another story tells of scientific breakthroughs leading to saving endangered species.

     Our scientists are interviewed and allude to their discoveries. Pictures of Condors and Oscillated Turkeys flash on the back ground screens. A commercial follows showing medical equipment invented by INGEN airs at the break. It shows a plethora of awards garnered in the field of genetics and lauds the advances and benefits of medical stem cell research.

     Breakthroughs in the lab have gained worldwide attention in the news for our scientists and a gala affair to announce their success is planned at the San Diego wild animal park. They have been nominated to receive the Nobel Peace Prize for their work in biology. They are touted as ‘Environmental Heroes’ on the evening news.

     On a nearby channel, Mexican News shows interviews of the border-jumper’s plight as well with some saying they are attacked by "Chupacabre". Many are hospitalized and visibly in shock. They are muttering in broken Spanish and English as some tell their stories of being attacked by the Chupacabre. Several camera shots of young Mexican males on ventilators in ICU beds flicker across the screen. Outside the hospital others are searching for their lost family members last known to be trying to enter the US. Photographs of the missing are posted all over the area on message boards and the internet. Pictures of mutilated farm animals flash on screen as well. Most of them are barely recognizable because they’ve been ripped to shreds.

     One farmer shows his “game camera footage” that shows an eerie glimmering upright shapes tearing his prize cattle to pieces while blood flies and splatters against the lens to the point of obscuring the picture all together. The interviewed farmer states, (wish it could be Ray Stevens with a Hispanic accent!) “It’s those darned chupacabre’s!” “I’m gonna shoot every single one of those ‘Dad-blame’ things I get a chance to!”

         

 

** The Big Break Through **

****

 

     A few short weeks later:     

     The Evening News headlines the announcement of the upcoming Nobel peace prize nominees. There are short interview clips of our scientists and pictures of their success animals. Tim and Lexie are being interviewed about their project as Tim stands holding his pug in his arms. In another story", There has also been a successful bid by the city of San Diego for the upcoming Olympics whose theme is also ironically titled "The Brotherhood of Man".

     Right after Tim and Lex’s interview, they return to their office. As they pass down the hallway, a familiar voice calls out. “Dr. Murphy?” It is Chewy but, she is wearing Marine Corps Class A uniform. She is accompanied by Carter in similar dress. “Maria Lasango’s, I mean Chewy.” “But please, call me Maria.” “We met on the beach a while back.” “Oh yes, I remember it well”, Lex responds. “I’ve been following you on the news lately.” “This is Lt. Carter.” Handshakes are shared and Lexie invites them into their office space. “How can I help you Maria?” “Well Ma’am, for starters”, (she reaches into her purse and pulls out the claw and scales in a clear plastic bag and places it on Lex’s desk. She opens an envelope and retrieves photos stamped “CLASSIFIED” of the creatures they’ve recovered. We need any information you can give us about these things.

     Visibly shaken, Lex steps back from the items and asks her why she is there and why did she have to bring ‘those things’ with her. Chewy reaches out to hold Lex’s shoulder and begins. “I’m not here to upset you but,” She reaches into her jacket and pulls out an official ID Badge. “We are trying to figure a way to combat these things.” Carter notices an old Jurassic Park poster on the wall with John Hammond’s photo next to it on the wall behind Tim’s desk. There are pictures along the bottom of the poster of the lab facilities and scientists holding infant dinosaurs for publicity photos. Another poster is Robert Oppenheimer smoking his pipe.

     Carter turns to Tim and points at the poster. “The two of you have had first-hand experience with them and we feel you may be able to shed some light on their strengths and weaknesses.” “That’s just it you see, they don’t have any weaknesses!” Lex responds.   “These things will single-handedly attack a T-Rex!” They’re deadly and have no fear of anything!” Tim relies. “They’re absolutely wicked!”

     “What can you tell us about their habits, their lifespan, their reproductive rate, growth rate, anything?” Maria asks.   “I was just a child then and all I can tell you is what I remember.” Lexie tells them, “First, all the dinosaurs at Jurassic Park were bred female so there wouldn’t be any breeding possible. Somehow, that failed as well.”  Chewy and Carter look at each other with intent interest in Tim and Lex’s story. “Do you have any photos from back then?” Carter asks. Tim answers up and tells them about the box of paperwork and information Dr. Wu’s son gave them at the funeral.   He retrieves it from the file cabinet and they begin looking through it. Manuscripts, theories and finally a few photos near the bottom. There are pictures of newly hatched velociraptors and other species.

 

     There is only one photo that is damaged as if ripped in half diagonally. Lex picks it up and places her hand over her mouth in surprise. “This is it!” She points at the photo and drops it on the desk for all to see. It is a head and neck shot of an adult Raptor. “Wait a minute!” “Look here at these and again at these.” The difference is noticeable in the two creatures. “These aren’t the same raptors.” Lex drops back into her chair and looks exasperated for a moment. “They’ve mutated!” “How?” “They may not be your only problem.”

     She and Tim stare wide-eyed at each other for a moment and Lexie motions over her shoulder at Tim. “We need to show them!” They escort Chewy and Carter to the freezer and work their way to the back of the room. They open the container with the pterodactyl’s remains inside. Carter and Chewy stare at each other in disbelief. Lex tells them. “These animals are probably how the raptors reached the mainland as eggs.” She explains the natural process of stocking ponds by wading birds. Lex tells them, “We didn’t know they had bred pterodactyls.” Maria and Carter thank their hosts and leave to report their findings.

     They reach Carter’s Truck and sit silent for a moment. Maria attempts to speak first but Carter chimes in at about the same time. “Eggs?!” Carter; “Go ahead.” Maria; “No you first.” “Did she say eggs?!” “Yes, she said eggs!” “I guess my next question would be, how many eggs can these things lay?” “Let’s get back to base and sort this stuff out with the Colonel.” Carter starts the truck and quickly throws it into reverse. He barely misses a diminutive older gentleman carrying a brief case and curses himself for getting jumpy. He jumps out of the truck and rushes to the man’s side. He starts patting him down to check the man for injuries and apologizes.

     Brushing himself off and straightening his tie, the gentleman states, “Oh I’m quite fine.” “I keep forgetting to look both ways here in the states.” He then asks Carter, “Where might I find Dr. Lex or Dr. Timothy Murphy?” He has an obvious European accent and appears quite refined. Carter and Chewy exchange looks and direct him to the administrative office doors of the lab building. They return to the truck and watch as the stranger enters the office doors.

     “Wonder what that could be about?” Maria asks Carter. He replies, “Probably just another scientist here to compare notes. “Well, let us attempt to make it back to base in one piece shall we?” Maria giggles as she attempts to imitate the man’s accent. Carter smiles and replies in turn, “Shall we?”

     A pretty young lady is sitting at her desk as a lab technician and student are attempting to flirt with her. The two male students attempt to ‘one-up’ each other vying for the young lady’s favour when our visitor enters the office doors. “Pardon me young lady.” I am looking for Doctors Lex or Timothy Murphy.

 

** It works both ways **

****

 

     Some miles away, in an undiscovered cave covered with ancient petroglyphs, a seemingly unending clutch of eggs is loudly chirping and rocking as the evening's first flight of bats takes to the twilight skies. Like the gothic gargoyles of medieval cathedrals, perched over the mouth of the cave sit a dozen or more pterodactyls. They are awaiting their chance to drop in for a stolen egg or two when they get the chance. They will even take a hatchling if the opportunity presents itself. There are a few remnants of farm animal bones including newly hatched raptors scattered about their perches and nests. Many of the eggs are "pipping". There are thousands of eggs and the noise increases to that of a live rock concert. Hordes of creatures of different sizes and ages lie sleeping and some are quietly stirring around through the caves depths.

     One creature is lying near the cave entrance sleeping as a mosquito slides its proboscis between its scales and gorges itself on the creature’s blood. It flies off some miles into the twilight and lands on the neck of a young illegal alien trying to cross the border between patrols. As it bites the young alien he swats it and splatters the bluish fluid on his neck. In a few moments, he becomes dizzy and his visions blurs as his iris shape contorts and begins to change from round to elliptical then, back to round and, a bright golden ring appears on its inner border. His heart rate increases and his skin becomes pale and sweaty. He vomits and slips into unconsciousness. White blood cells in his body mobilize and begin devouring the antigens in his body. He spikes a fever and his eyes return to normal, his skin returns to normal. His increased temperature is killing and denaturing the alien DNA in his blood and tissues. He awakens from the tapping and shaking by a fellow alien and slowly returns to normal.

     A large indurated abscess forms on the bite and blue-green pus oozes from the site. The foul smell is noticed by his companion and he cuts some cactus slices and places them on the wound. In his ruck sack, he pulls out a chlorinated diaper wipe and cleanses the wound. Miraculously, it heals in moments with the only trace of the earlier bite being a greyish discolored patch of skin. The companion witnesses the miraculously fast healing, pulls a cross out of his collar to kiss and makes the sign of the cross and praises Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Slipping through the darkness, the pair stops suddenly at the sound of rustling brush.

     From out of nowhere, they are attacked by trio of creatures. They are backed up against a stone outcropping with only the backpack to shield them. One of the young men swings wildly at a creature with the back pack. Its powerful jaws latch on to the cloth bag and it is torn apart. The 3 begin to fight each other for the pack. During the attack, one of the raptors bites into the backpack and through the container of chlorinated wipes.   As the raptor throws back its head to swallow its prize, a strange look issues from its eyes. The creature begins to cough and gag. Loud hideous wheezing ensues. Frothy sputum sprays from its mouth and is immediately followed by coughing and blood spray. It drops to the ground and begins to kick and thrash trying to scream but manages only loud gurgles. In a few moments, the creature makes only nervous twitching movements while the other watch. Like wild turkeys, the others begin to jump on and bite at the downed comrade. They tear at its flesh and slash at its head. No movement is observed. Another creature grabs the same container in its jaws to run off with it and a similar fate downs it. The remaining creature walks around the two fallen cohorts and sniffs at their dead bodies. Our two travellers take that opportunity to leave the area without looking back and disappear into the blackness of the night.

     The third raptor snatches up the chlorinated wipes caught in the teeth of one of the dead creatures. Biting down on the plastic box sends it coughing, sneezing and running off into the night leaving behind the scene of carnage. It comes to a stop some distance away and blood can be seen trickling from its nostrils and the corners of its mouth. It is short of breath and grows weaker as it trudges off into the darkness only to fall a few yards away and expire. Death shows in the form of the creature’s arched neck as its multi-colored shimmering scales that turn to a dull dark greyish green and then only grey. Pupils dilate and its skin begins to grey out as well.

     Hordes of flies waste no time in swarming and laying their maggot-evolving eggs in the creature mouth and nostrils to feast on their newly found meal. Desert ants soon follow and, a few days later, the only thing that remains are bones. Like a cross between a perfect fossil and fresh skeleton with the characteristic curved neck and open mouth. The windblown scales flutter and tumble through the desert shrubbery. One ant is carrying a single scale high above its head and down the sandy trail back to its hill.

 

** No time to celebrate **

****

****

     Carrying a tray over his shoulder, a server displays his artistic hors d'oeuvres for the guests. A truly gala event is being hosted for our scientists who have been awarded the Nobel peace prize to be awarded by (Rip Torn) Everyone entering the great foyer strolls past a large portrait of John Hammond toasting with his signature panama hat and his unique cane seemingly welcoming all who enter.

     A red carpet rivalling the Oscars is graced by the presence of numerous Officials, Dignitaries and Stars. Even the paparazzi are there to ply their trade along with local and national news agencies. As guests arrive, they are greeted by the park’s CEO and the Mayor of San Diego accompanied by their wives. Handshaking and salutations fill the air. The governor enters and is also greeted. “You have quite a spread here tonight”, he exclaims. The CEO responds, “We’ve spared no expense!”

     There is a small orchestra playing in one corner of the room. They are Just striking up “Por Una Cabeza”. The governor is shaking hands with Lex as the opening chords are struck. Being the total gentleman, he bows and asks Lex. “May I have this dance?” Although no one is dancing, Lex is smitten by the governor’s request and bravely, she accepts his suave offer. They clear a considerable area in the middle of the crowd now enthralled at the beautiful exhibit unfolding before them. Once they have finished and the Governor bows and kisses her hand in thanks. Roaring applause erupts from the crowd. The governor waves to everyone and Lex curtsies. The ensemble begins playing the opening lines of Jurassic Park.

     Guests are mingling throughout the room. The décor is understandably decorated in a jungle and mountain motif. There is a spread of decorative food and arrangements that would rival any European royal event. Ice sculptures of extinct or near extinct species make up the center pieces for several tables. One is a Dodo; another is a great Andes Condor. Another table sports an oscillated turkey and a life-sized One-horned Rhinoceros and White Rhinoceros. In the center of them all, a great T-Rex standing at least 20 feet tall made from huge blocks of ice carved in a splendid pose like the closing shot from JP1.

     Above the great statue, A Great black, red and gold Banner stretches across the ceiling stating “WELCOME TO SAN DIEGO WILD ANIMAL PARK”. The fine print across the bottom reads, “WHERE THE WILD RULES THE WORLD!” Around the parameter of the great room stand large screen monitors playing videos of the species that have benefited from Tim and Lex’s research.

     The caterer is frantically running about in the kitchen shouting out orders to the staff.  Lex, adorned in a gorgeous ball gown and Tim in a fashionable tuxedo stand greeting guests. Tim is holding the cane fashioned much like the one his grandfather carried with the amber-entrapped mosquito adorning the top. The ensemble takes a break and the sound of music is replaced by jungle sound bites and calls of the beasts and birds depicted in the ice sculptures. T-Rex is the grandest exhibit of all.

     After personally congratulating the young scientists, the governor excuses himself to leave. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for the rest of the ceremonies but, I must catch a flight shortly for diplomatic meetings with president Morales in Mexico City.” He shakes Tim’s hand then, turns to Lex. “Thank you for that refreshing dance my lady!” He bows to Lex as he kisses her hand and turns to leave. He waves to the crowd as he exits the building. His motorcade speeds off into the night and disappears. On the winding road leaving the Park, something (a raptor) runs across the road in front of our motorcade and causes the driver to swerve and brake violently. The governor is jostled in the back seat and asks the driver what is wrong? Something ran across the road and I had to swerve to miss it sir. Then we’re all clear? Yes sir, no damage. Then let’s get to LAX. I have a jet to catch.

     Vent fans in the kitchen pull smoke and steam out through large turbine units on the roof. A switch is thrown at a cooking station and the massive unit on the roof slowly starts up with whirring clicks. Its whining blades are reminiscent of a small jet engine. The smells of delicious foods and meats waft through the desert air on mountain currents everywhere. A storm moving over the mountains elicits dry lightning in the eastern sky. The sounds of music follow and reverberate off the surrounding canyon walls. The Creatures gather around the complex and begin to encircle the building. As they do, another song winds up on a guest car’s radio . It’s AC/DC’s Hell’s Bells.

     A valet attendant closes the door and stands back to admire a Bugatti he has just parked when a rustling of brush behind him gets his attention and he turns to investigate. “Hey! Who’s there?” The low rattling of a raptors growl is unrecognizable to him and he steps closer to the hedges to investigate. A shiny glistening of light catches his eye and reaches his arms into the hedge to part it for a better view. His allergies kick in as he disturbs the flowers of the hedge and he sneezes loudly.

     The raptor staring at him from only a few feet away in the brush is startled and he rears back his head in surprise. The raptor loses its stealthy skin control for a moment and the Valet attendant sees the full face-on view of the creature. Black, brown and green toned skin with intermittent reddish patches covers its skin in the mercury vapor lights of the parking lot. He stumbles backwards and falls as the creature regains its senses and screeches at the would-be prey. It squats low, preparing to pounce on the fallen prey. The attendant falls backwards with the keys in his hand and the door locks open. He quickly regains his feet and manages to get inside the lavishly expensive Bugatti and lock the doors as the creature lunges and tries to bite him through the window glass. The creature begins to lash out at the car with his jaws and fore claws in an attempt to get at the trapped boy. The boy manages to start the car and put it in gear.

     The creature now astride the vehicle is lashing at the roof. The glass of the sun roof shatters and creature manages to reach in with its deadly clawed forehand but gathers only cloth of the young man’s jacket as he accelerates and brings the car to a swerve near the building’s entrance as his co-workers look on and stare as the car careens around the driveway and speeds out of sight.

     The creature yet unseen by the crowd, was slung off into some shrubs as the car entered their view. The creature shakes off the impact and regains its feet. In true Raptor fashion it stands with a tall erect posture and calls out for help and action from any other nearby Raptors. The waiting crowd outside goes silent as they all hear the alien sound of the raptor bark. A woman in the crowd calls out, “I think somebody’s stealing that car!” A couple standing just inside the look on and the man rushes out screaming. “Hey that’s My car!” “Someone call the police!” Cell phones begin to pop out throughout the crowd as multiple calls are dialled to 9-1-1.

    

     Back inside, Tim is explaining the gene sequencing and inoculation process of the condor and turkey eggs to reverse the sterilization caused by indiscriminate pesticide and defoliate chemicals used that caused the near extinction of the species. The short film playing behind him is reminiscent of his grandfather’s production from the original Jurassic Park presentation. Even the beginning of the film clip is that of John Hammond pricking his finger and conversing with ‘Mr. DNA’.

     The lights dim in the great hall and a crystal glass being rung like a bell can be heard until the room becomes quiet and still. Spotlights cover the podium at center stage. Tim and Lex take the stage to toast their guests.

       “Although our grandfather wanted to resurrect 65 million year old Dinosaurs, Our strides here today with genetics and stem cell research have found a way to save todays species from senseless annihilation and extinction at the hands of mans’ un-wisest of choices to waste the most precious of resources, his own planet.” “We must learn to live in harmony with all the creatures of this earth and learn to benefit each other.” “It is our hope that one day; man will learn to live together with his world instead of trying to control it for his own gain.” “In short, we must even learn to live with the mosquitos and cock roaches.

     The applause is overwhelming and Tim grasps Lex’s hand to raise it in triumph. They step to the side of the podium to take a bow. A presenter  for the Nobel society steps up beside them to climax the ceremony. As he tries to speak into the squealing microphone and backs up to relieve feedback, the string ensemble begins to play pomp and circumstance. The speaker regains his composure and begins his salutations in preparation for the awarding of the coveted prize. “It is so rare that people so young are awarded this prestigious title but, ours is world of true wonders!” “It is almost as if life finds a way.” “It is my honor to present this, the Nobel Peace Prize for life Sciences to our young pioneers tonight.” Two young pages, a boy and a girl, climb the steps of the stage and present their ornate cases to the presenter for placing on the necks of our two celebrities.

     Outside at the valet parking station, the raptors are taking down the first humans of the night. Others are climbing the walls and trellises to scale to the high windows above. The caterer is taking out a large bin of waste. He is complaining about organization. “If you want something done at all, I guess you just have to do it yourself!” As he backs into the door to open it, a creature lashes out and throws the hapless caterer out into the darkness where several others jump on him and begin tearing him to manageable portions.

     The door handle can be seen slowly rotating. A raptor slowly pushes the door open to the busy kitchen with no one noticing the odd visitor at the door. As the creature steps into the brightly lit kitchen, its skin is clearly visible in the fluorescent spectrum. An event chef notes the creature stepping in and shouts out to it thinking it is a performer and instructs it to leave and enter by the back stage doors on the other side of the loading docks. Two more creatures enter the kitchen area and one of them jumps onto the stainless steel food preparation surface and begins to bark repeatedly. The chef begins walking to them very agitated now that they have failed to heed his directions. “What the hell’s wrong with you people?” “You need to get out of here and enter through the backstage doors!” “Don’t you understand English?!” The other raptor gives a chattering growl and begins to run through the workers in the kitchen slashing as he goes. “The chef is pounced upon by the first beast and, in an instant is silenced.

     One worker at the far end of the room stands terrified in front of an open freezer door and ducks into the room beating a creature by mere inches as it follows him inside. Its feet slip and slide across the frozen floor and it rams into the far wall. Striking its head against a rack of quartered beef, it slides headlong into the shiny metal wall. It is dazed and confused for a moment. The quick thinking cook crawls out of the freezer and manages to rise to his knees and closes the door and drops the locking pin into the latch. He breathes deeply for a few moments and regains his composure.

         Un-noticed to him, a second raptor has advanced to within a few feet from him. On the floor next to the kneeling cook is a mop bucket on a cart with a floor cleaner and chlorinated bleach mixture in it. In an instant panic, the cook tries to jump to one side and as he does so, he kicks over the mop bucket. It sloshes and splashes wildly on the side of the bucket before spilling out on the floor in the direction of the raptor. The spill reaches the feet of the creature and taking the next lunging step, it slips and falls face-first into the liquid. Sliding in the slippery liquid, the raptor comes nose to nose with the trembling cook.

     Frantically back-crawling away on his hands and feet, he somehow reaches the dining room door. He has been oblivious to the raptor since then. He screams for help and reaches out to a waiter’s hand just as a pouncing raptor lands on the waiter and sinks its set of claws into his body. A look of total surprise overtakes his facial expressions as he falls to the ground with a smaller creature holding down his prey like an eagle over its kill. The cook circles the creature and backs up recklessly through the swinging doors. Losing his footing as he tries to turn and run, he trips over a guest and slides face first into some empty chairs. He rolls to the side and ends up under a table. Hiding behind its floor-length cloth, he hugs the table center post with both arms and legs and trembling with terror, refuses to let go. He fails to even notice that he is soaked in the floor cleaning solution.

     Although clearly visible now in the many different spectrums of lighting, creatures converge from every angle and tear through their human prey in an overwhelming wave of death and carnage. The panicking crown runs in all directions and tramples the slow and fallen. Their glistening outlines slice through the crowds and leave only blood in their wake. The announcer hands the awards to Tim and Lex then turns to see the crowd falling in unbelievable waves as they are slashed and torn apart before his eyes. The presenter runs into the curtain trying to escape and is tangled in the massive cloth. He falls unconscious in the heaping fabric but luckily, is hidden from view and motionless.

    

     Tim sees the outline of the raptors in the darkness of back stage and grabs Lex by the arm to drag her to the empty side of the stage. Lex screams out, “The children!” A large metal food cart is situated next to the steps of the stage. Tim notices the table cloth placed on it has been dislodged. He jumps from the stage and Lex runs to the edge next to the children. Tim turns the cart over to empty its contents and reaches for the children. Amidst the chaos and screams, the children have not yet realized the total carnage all around them. Tim grabs the boy and sets him on the lid of the overturned metal box. Next, he reaches up as Lex hands him the girl. He sets her down beside the boy and tells them. “You don’t move!” “You don’t make a sound, NO Matter What!” Someone will come and get you.” Do you understand?! The frightened children shake their heads in acknowledgement and he lowers the box down on the lid and throws the locking latches on the box.

     Tim leaps back up onto the stage. He takes Lex by the hand and looks for an escape route. There are raptors in every direction, except one. He looks up and sees the scaffolding above the stage. He notices the access ladder and they run toward it. The problem with the access ladder is that it begins about eight feet from the floor. Time sees a folding ladder leaning against the wall and sets it up next to the access ladders lowest rungs. Two raptors are now on the other end of the stage and converging on them. As Tim clears the folding ladder’s top, he kicks it over and they begin climbing a rigging ladder to the top of the stages catwalk above. Lex is above him on the ladder and her long flowing gown is a hindrance for both of them. Grabbing a rung, a handful of Lex’s gown wrapped in Tim’s grasp. “Sorry Sis”, he exclaims as he rips the lower end of the dress from her waist leaving only the top.

     The layers of the shimmering material float to the floor and come to rest over the head and face of a pursuing creature. It pauses to tear away the cloth giving them just enough time to reach the rigging above. Tim quickly removes the safety pin holding the ladder up off the floor. As another creature enters back stage and spots them above, it rushes beneath the ladder. It falls crashing to the stage, taking the raptor with it. The raptor on the stage floor is impaled by the heavy metal ladder. The raptor still trying to climb the ladder has poked his head through the rungs to see what has happened as it plummets to the floor below. The creature’s neck is instantly broken and it falls limp onto the stage floor.

     The couple moves through the rigging and curtain controls. Lex slips but, manages to save herself only by the slightest of hand holds in the framing. Creatures jump from their claw-holds on the great curtain and swing wildly at her feet. Their lashes and bites miss her by mere inches. Tim pulls her to safety and they turn to move farther up the structure. As Tim climbs another ladder, his medal dangling around his neck by a precious few threads of the remaining ribbon is hung up on a piece of scaffolding. He rips it loose and it drops to the floor towards a raptor. In slow motion, the medal tumbles and shines, reflecting light with every turn. A waiting creature catches the medal in mid-air in its teeth and bites down on it. Curiously, it reaches up and grasps the medal in its clawed hand and bites down on it again as if testing the softness of the gold. Looking back up at the pair climbing through the rigging above, it snarls and drops the medal to the floor. It rings and clangs loudly, drawing the raptor’s attention once more.

     The spot and color filmed lights show the creatures in their real color spectrum. The males have spindly plumage about their neck and head. The females have mottled color patterns of red, gray and green about their faces.   They all have irregular red patches throughout their skin. The eyes of all are glaring and red-centered with iris of yellow elliptical vertical slits. Their nostrils are separated by a septum not much unlike that of human features. Their short snout and lower jaw are shorter than any description of the raptors from any previous literature.

     A few of the raptors begin climbing and tearing at the heavy stage curtains and begin to make their way up to the rigging. Tim sees the advancing creatures and looks for an escape. He spots a hatch door leading to the roof outside and directs Lex toward it. They make their way to the roof hatch and exit the dome and await rescue. Raptors strike the hatch from below and try to turn the latch dogs but Tim has his feet dug into the levers and holds them off. The catwalk swings violently under the extra weight of the raptors. Stage lights are dancing and bouncing in ceiling and some blow bulbs and shatter raining hot glass shards on the creatures below. Cables holding the catwalk can no longer handle the strain of the raptors’ weight.

     The first one snaps. The nearest raptor freezes in its tracks and takes on a surprised facial expression. It quickly settles and regains a steely determined look as it gazes up at the hatch above. The creature takes another heavy step. Then another cable stretches, sings out and snaps. Instant surprise returns to its face. Within a few seconds, like a great zipper, the rest break and drop the heavy structure with its frenzied passengers to the stage floor below. Grasping at air like a mime, the beast flails throughout the fall. All the raptors on the catwalk and below are either killed or severely injured.

     Chaotic screams have diminished but, continue to pierce the air. Evening gowns and tuxedos are shredded and become napkins and placemats for the population of genetically altered raptors. More raptors descend upon the guests entering through the caterer's kitchen. Other groups enter through the lower glass rotunda and windows reminiscent of a delta force assault. The creature that was locked in a freezer earlier is tearing away at the hanging meat products and slipping on the icy floor. It can no longer distinguish the door from any other surfaces in the room. It seems lost. The creature is soon overwhelmed by the cold fan-forced air and collapses on the floor exhausted and beginning to be covered in frost.

     Other creatures that have responded to its’ muffled calls for help are repelled by the chlorine smell on the floor near the freezer’s door and soon abandon their research. Giving one last valiant charge at the freezer door, one of them has slipped and fallen face-first into the spilt bucket of bleach-infused mop water is having its own problems. It coughs up hideous blue blood and immediately goes into respiratory distress as the chlorine fumes becomes hydrochloric acid in its lungs. Cellular membranes begin to burst as the hydrochloric acid dismantles the polypeptides and spill cellular contents into the intercellular spaces. Alveolar walls dissolve into a soup of burst capillaries as the bluish blood becomes the solvent and breaks down the remaining tissues in the lungs. Like carbonated soda water, fine bubbles complete the mixing of chemicals to complete the destruction of thoracic contents and rapidly strangle the beast in its’ own blood.

     As the first raptor dies kicking in its own frothy, bloody juices, another is seriously burned on its feet and legs as it stands over the dying pack member and barely escapes the building. It attempts to run from the scene only to be struck by a truck on the nearby interstate. Another raptor finds the champagne fountain and laps it up becoming drunk. It staggers around the room and seeing the ice sculptures leaps onto the tables. He slashes at the ice and it shatters under the powerful blows. Ice crystals fly in every direction and sparkle in the bright lights.

     The drunken creature spots more brilliant flashes above and leaps with all its strength and manages to catch the swinging chandelier. It pulls itself up inside the massive fixture and begins to slash and bite at the crystals. The great chandelier begins to swing and spin with the weight of the beast. Trying to roar in aggression only yields a pitiful gurgling from the creature as it continues to wreak havoc on the chandelier’s lights. It tries to stand on its hind legs while attacking the great fixture from inside. As it gains its feet inside the massive fixture, it pauses and its head bobs around like a drunk and it elicits a loud belch that is followed up by a hiccup. It continues attacking the sparkling crystals tearing them out with powerful slashes sending them scattering like snowflakes. As if to realize it is no longer on the floor, the creature reaches for a secure hold on the center shaft of the great chandelier but, loses its balance and falls striking it's head on the marble floor the creature breaks its neck. It lies on the floor lifeless as other raptors run over it and tear the flesh from its body with their claws. Its eyes are fixed in death.

     A few raptors have found their way to the front doors and snatch up would-be escapees as they try to exit the building. The carnage is rampant and some creatures can be seen devouring the trays of prime rib and Hors d'oeuvres while lapping and splashing in the champagne and chocolate fountains. One creature is mesmerized by a tray of jiggling Jell-O but, is repulsed by its flavour as it attacks it with its powerful jaws. Tonight, blood is the most desired liquid flowing. Several raptors are attacking the ice carving of the T-Rex and finally topple the great statue from their weight. They lie dead and crushed under its great mass.

     Another raptor is sitting astride the great rhinoceros ice statue. It maintains a hold to the carving’s back and reaches up to slash at a half-fallen chandelier. Appearing comically like a bull-riding cowboy as it swings at the crystals.

     From the domed rooftop, Tim manages to find his phone and dials 911. The dispatcher answers on the third ring. “911, what is your emergency? “We need help!” “We’re being attacked by raptors and they’re killing everyone!” “Sir, where are you located?” Time gives the address. “we need help now!” People are dead and dying!” “Sir, you say you are at the Wild Animal Park?” “Yes, please!, wend help now!” The dispatcher asks if this is a joke and begins to tell Tim the legal consequences of prank 911 calls.

     Tim loses his composure and says, “Look Bitch! I planted a bomb and everybody here is gonna die!” He hangs up and looks at Lex. ”Well, That ought to bring ‘em running!” He removes his tuxedo jacket and places it over Lex’s shoulders. Now, they sit and wait.

     During the phone call from Tim certain keywords are picked up by NSA computers and the phone call is immediately routed to listening posts in a nearby station. On the highway outside the compound, our young valet driver is pulled over by police. He is being held up against the car and handcuffed. He is yelling incoherently about his attacker as police hold his head down and place him in the cruiser.

 

 

** I’m All Ears! **

****

****

     In the same swarm of containers on Camp Pendleton’s motor pool area, a team is monitoring cell phone transmissions for the NSA. “We have a hit here!” “Put him on speaker.” The operator types in a line of code and Tim’s phone call is played in its entirety. “911 what is your emergency?” “This is Tim Larsen; I’m on top of the visitor’s center and San Diego Wild Animal Park. We are being attacked by Raptors and they’re killing everyone! We need help now! They’re killing everybody! We’re on top of the dome roof and need help now!” (Dispatcher) Sir is this a prank call? You are aware that prank 911 calls can be prosecuted as criminal acts now, what is your emergency? I’m telling you, there are velociraptors attacking the visitor center at the San Diego Wild Animal Park and they’re killing everybody! Sir, we are dispatching police to your location, what is the address? Tim gives them the address and the dispatcher repeats, Sir if this is a prank 911 call, you will be prosecuted and there are possible penalties of a $5,000.00 fine and 3 years in prison. I will dispatch a unit to your location. Tim responds “Look Bitch! I planted a bomb and everybody’s gonna die!” A click is heard and the line goes dead.

     “What do you make of that sir?” “Are there any Global Hawks in the area?” Look at that address for me.” A Q4 cruising over the border turns and begins focusing in on the exact location. Stepping down images, a real time view of the wild animal park comes into view. The visitor’s Center begins to focus in when they spot Tim and Lexie on the roof and carnage all around the building. “Holy Shit!” “Get a platoon over there now!” “Make that a company!” “Get some ‘helo’s’ out there too!” Don’t we have two crews out there scheduled for night op’s training?” “Yes Sir!” “There are two Apache crews on the field as we speak.” “Then get ‘em out there and make damned sure they’re loaded to the hilt!” “What do you make of it sir?” “I don’t have a clue but, it looks like the real thing.” No creatures are clearly visible but, some bodies are being moved around and being torn apart as they watch. The Office in Charge stares in disbelief at his monitors and mutters. “Mother of God!”

     On a nearby tarmac, Chewy and her gunner run to their airship and pull off the last remaining arming flags from their weapons. They get a last minute briefing from an NSA agent. “Your mission has changed Captain.” We have an incident at these coordinates and you’re needed on station A.S.A.P.!”   Chewy and her gunner stare at each other in disbelief. “Not again?” Careful to keep his comment low and private, her gunner asks. “This far north?” Chewy responds as she examines the coordinates. “I know this place!” “I’ve been there before!” Chewy says loudly over the starting turbines. She remembers that her visit was top secret and she refrains from any more comments.

     A ground crew has already fired up the engines and plugged in their helmets as they jump in their seats and strap in. Over the whining of the jet engines, chewy asks the crew chief, “Is she topped off chief?” “Fuel and fire to the very top Ma’am!”   “Can’t get another drop or round in her Ma’am!” “That’s good!” The crew chief slams the canopy shut and latches it down. They exchange snappy salutes then, the crew chief steps back quickly into the darkness clear of the spinning rotors.   She takes the helmet and secures it and her seat straps. She calls to her gunner. “Junior!” “Yes Ma’am, I’ve already slaved the guns to you!” “Good deal, now let’s go hunting!” The apache takes off hot and rotor blades barely miss the ground in the aggressive angle of launch. “Could it really be our friends again Ma’am?” “Don’t know but we’re gonna find out!”

     The helicopter speeds off over the mountains and disappears into the night. “Ma’am, I think I know what you’ve been shooting at.”   “It’s all that wavy outline crap with nothing in the middle isn’t it?” “Maybe you have been paying attention Junior.” “I’m switching the guns back to you.” “Just don’t take out any friendlies!” “Yes Ma’am, You got it!” The helicopter reaches its destination in a few short minutes from Camp Pendleton and the GPS coordinates arrival alarm sounds off as the target comes into view. Tim and Lex are still perched on the roof of the Visitor’s Center. They are waving their arms frantically. Climbing up the roof on an adjacent side, two raptors are working their way towards Tim and Lexie.   They gain an upright posture and proceed to move in on the waiting pair. “Ma’am, do you see them at 3 O’clock?” “That’s them Junior, Let ‘em have it!” With a short burst of the chain gun, deadly 30mm rounds disintegrate the approaching creatures. “Yahoo!” “Way to go Junior!”   “Now, scan the grounds around them and make sure it’s clear.” “I got another group at 1O’clock, looks like 3 or 4 of them.” “What are you waiting for?”

     At that moment, Chewy realizes that the targets are directly in front of the elephant paddocks from memories visiting the park at a younger age. “Hold up Junior!” But, her order is too late. The raptors go down but the rounds pierce the concrete walls and drop a great elephant and her calf. “What Ma’am?” “What just happened?” “You just bagged your first elephant!” “Oh Damn No!” “We’ll cry later, just keep hunting!” When no more distant targets are visible, Several more groups of creatures are spotted leaving the building and dispatched by the deadly Apache team.

     Several more gunships arrive in the area and the lead ship commander radios them. “Chewy, can we be of any assistance?” “No thanks Sir; we’ve cleared the area of threats and no other visuals.” They seemed to have headed west into the mountains.” “Roger that Chewy but, some may have headed south.” “We spotted 2 dead elephants on the way in.” “Looks like they got them on the way in or the way out.” “Either way still sad.” “They were my little girl’s favorites!” Junior gives a dejected look as he shakes his head in sadness.

     Chewy radios back. “I’m gonna set it down here sir.” “I have a low fuel pressure alarm and I need to check it out.” There is no ‘low pressure alarm’. She feels she must check on Lex and Tim personally. Another gunship crew radios to Chewy. “We came up the coast and didn’t see a thing on this side. “You guys go find the rest of them in the mountains.” “Yes Ma’am, we’ll catch up with you back at base.” The remaining Apaches break off and begin their searches along and over the mountain range nearby. Military trucks begin arriving and marines leap from the backs of them spreading out through the compound. The ground troops are arriving and may need me again.” Chewy brings the airship to a landing near the parking area.

     A platoon of marines take positions around the building and another enters the building to sweep it clear. A CH-53 arrives and lands nearby. The Colonel steps out and approaches Chewy. “Same visuals captain?” “Same picture Sir!” The commander salutes and walks past her to the 2 survivors, Tim and Lexie climbing down a fire ladder truck to the ground. “I hear you two have had quite a night!” The officer addresses the siblings.

     “Fancy meeting you here!” Lex says as she first see’s Chewy. “Wow, you weren’t lying were you?” “You really are a pilot!” Chewy reaches to shake Lexie’s hand and Lex, overwhelmed by the recent excitement, grabs and hugs Chewy and thanks her for the rescue. “I watched you flying up there and you were just amazing!” “How did you know about this?” “I’m on standby a few nights a week for rapid response to you might say, ‘homeland security issues’”.

     Colonel Cross gives a curious eye and then continues to direct Tim and Lex to waiting Super Stallion still spinning its rotors. Tim stops short in his steps. “OH NO!” “Wait!” He rushes inside the building as a marine tries to stop him. Tim shoves the marine’s rifle out of his path. There are two children hidden in there.   The young marine follows him hastily to the edge of the stage and Tim unlatches the box and rolls it off the two children hidden within.

     Frantic screams for help are coming from a pile of curtain material at the other end of the stage. The MC of the ceremony is untangled and helped to his feet. They are all whisked away with the children in the arms of marines. The little girl looks up and smiles at the handsome young corporal and asks, “Are you really a Marine?” “Yes Ma’am!” He replies. Without missing a beat, she says. “You’ve always been my heroes!” “My daddy was a marine too.” “He died in the war.” Quickening his pace as he carries the child away, the corporal begins to sob. The little boy simply states. “When I grow up, I want to be a marine too!”   A heavy tear streaks down the young soldier’s face as he tightens his hug on the boy. They reach a waiting Humvee and the boy is set on his feet at the door. After setting the boy in the seat and securing a seat belt, the marine reaches into the leg pocket of his BDU’s and pulls out his cover. He crisply pinches the corners and squares the brim then places on the young boy’s head. The Marine steps back and snaps to attention and delivers the boy his crispest salute. The boy returns it and settles back into the seat.

     Lex and Chewy stand facing each other holding hands as Lex relates the evening’s event to her. Lex is gently taken by the arm and led off with Tim to waiting helicopter. Chewy calls out to her. “We’ll talk some more real soon.” The colonel turns to Chewy. “Seems you two have hit it off captain?” Shrugging her shoulders, Chewy replies. “Just girl stuff Sir.” “You know.” She salutes and asks, “Is that all Sir?” Shaking his head like a doting father, the colonel motions Chewy back to her ship. She turns sharply and heads off.

 

 

** Oh what a night! **

****

 

     A short time later, Police arrive on the scene but the raptors have long since fled from the scene and are now replaced by teaming groups of marines everywhere. The late and laughable sounds of the sirens and, the lights from an approaching police helicopter arrive in time to see the military already setting up barricades and denying them scene access. A police official (Detective Malcolm) surveys the carnage and notes the curious absence of bullet casings and the lack of criminal evidence.

     He takes a step away from his car and steps on an uneven surface that almost causes him to twist his ankle. “Damnit!” He looks down and sees a curious shape. He reaches down and picks it up to examine it closer. It is a broken raptor claw. He pulls the handkerchief from his inside lapel pocket, wraps it carefully and places it back inside his coat. As a group of marines stand guard near the main entrance, they are approached by Colonel Cross and a gentleman from Costa Rica (Jimmy Smits). They are closely followed by more vehicles unloading marines who augment control of the area and usher everyone else to the outer parameters.

     Triage is set up for the injured but sadly, there are few victims still alive. They are hastily ushered into one of the rapidly set up expandable body truck unit modules and briefed. Escorted by marines, the Detective is taken to the command post. They discuss the reason he has been called for assistance due to the unusual evidence he has found. He palms the handkerchief hidden in his lapel pocket. Malcolm listens intently but gives little comment or reply. “You’ve got a lot of dead bodies out here Colonel.” “Isn’t that a police matter?” The conversation between military personnel continues. They leave him and travel off to the side of a military vehicle. After realizing he is excluded from any further briefing on the matter, he politely excuses himself and turns to leave. “Detective.” Colonel cross addresses him from across the way. “We’ll have updates for you as soon as we’re able.” “Don’t feel left out yet.” “We just have a few things left to nail down here first.” “My office will be in touch very soon.” “Oh, and Detective, not a word of this to the press.”

     A police cruiser pulls up carrying the valet driver whose earlier terror has settled and is becoming more annoyed at his situation than frightened. Malcolm interviews the young man as officers show him pictures of the vehicle’s damage. He orders the officer to take him home and release him from custody. “We’ll be in touch soon with more questions so, don’t leave town!” The young man is returned to the cruiser and driven off. Placing his note pad back in his pocket, Malcolm slowly turns in a circle, surveying the scene one last time before getting back into his car and driving off. As he pulls out of the parking lot, he sees some marines wheeling a stretcher with a sheet over it and the lower limb of a raptor sticking out uncovered. He focuses in on the claw hanging out of the sheet and grabs at his coat.

     Malcolm returns to his office and pulls out the claw. He opens a rape kit and secures the DNA swab envelope. He pulls a small pocket knife from another pocket. He sterilizes the blade over a flame from his lighter and scrapes off pieces of flesh from the root of the claw. He places the claw in a plastic bag and hides it behind a photo of himself receiving his promotion and hangs it back on the wall. He gathers the rape kit and labels it. He writes ‘slaughter’ on the package and returns it to his locking desk drawer.

     Returning to the scene the next morning, Tim and Lex step out of a Humvee. They are both wearing basic unranked fatigues provided the night before as their clothes were confiscated for lab testing. Lex fumbles at her belt trying to tighten it. She is completely unfamiliar with the mechanics of military uniforms. They are greeted and escorted by Marine M.P.’s who have assumed control of the scene along with the contingent of Marines borrowed from Camp Pendleton.

     The group returns to the mobile command unit and are again greeted by Colonel Cross. “What can you tell us about these things?” “Where do they come from and how many are there? “Where can we find them?” “We don’t know anything about them!” “They just started pouring out from everywhere!” Tim answers. “If you’re thinking we had anything to do with this you’re crazy.” “We don’t make dinosaurs here.” “We only work with endangered species!” Lex interjects.

     We have 27 of these things and they’re all dead except one. “One?!” “You’ve captured one?” “Alive?!” Tim asks. We found it in the freezer. It’s in containment back at your lab. “I need to see it, Now!” Tim replies. “First, we need to know everything you know about them so, what can you tell us about your grandfather’s company?”   “InGen only builds genetic processing and storage equipment now.” “Gene sequencers; cryogenic storage units and holographic software and hardware, that’s all.” There’s’ no more research there.” “There are no more dinosaurs!” “They killed them all on that horrible island!” Lex responds.

     “That’s not entirely accurate.” The colonel replies. “But, how do you explain these things we’ve picked up on your doorstep? “We’ve got to get to the bottom of this and soon!” “Marines, take these two back to base and confine them to quarters until I return.” Yes Sir! The MP’s escort Tim and Lex toward an awaiting Humvee. The colonel receives a phone call from General Strothers  in Washington instructing them to recruit the scientists to investigate the anomalies at the scene. Yes sir, understood! “Sargent, hold up for a moment.” “Bring them back here.” Tim and Lex stop and wait for the next thing out of the commander’s mouth as he speaks into the ear of the lead MP.

     “I just received a call from the Joint Chiefs of Staff on behalf of the President.” “He humbly requests your assistance with this matter and I am to provide you with anything you may require.” “How can I be of service?” Staring at each other with very surprised looks on their faces, Tim and Lex begin to over talk each other in a list of equipment and supplies. They even start to argue about priorities as the commander looks on. The commander interjects; “Well, I guess we can work all this out back at your lab so, can we go there now?”

     Driving up to the labs, Lex notices a couple Apache Gunships and other military helicopters in the back lot and adjacent field of the lab complex. Among the marines is Chewy, who assists in loading the body of a raptor onto a closed refrigerator truck. She does it purely out of curiosity. She wants to see the recipients of her ‘Annie Oakley’-like shooting. They look different form the live targets she’s used to. Stepping back and pulling off her gloves, she kisses a cross she has pulled out from under her uniform. She doesn’t see the shimmering outline, only the dead greyish color of their scaly skin and that eerie bluish iridescent blood she had become familiar with.

      The colonel tells Tim and Lex that all the creatures been brought by refrigerator truck to the only lab facility that can contain them and perform a proper necropsies. “Ironically it is your labs inside the San Diego Wild Animal Park.” They are being held under Marine guard from Camp Pendleton. They are off-loaded by forklifts on pallets save one that is dragged through the compound like a mad dog on several electrified pole leashes with cattle prods and bayonetted rifles coaxing it along. Its feet and claws are black from frostbite and it sniffles and sneezes constantly. It stands as straight as it can and begins to give the characteristic bark and cry for help that raptors give when stressed. No other creatures are near enough to hear its cries.

     Tim and Lex instantly recall their escape from Jurassic Park as children. In unison they yell out. “Muzzle it now!” “It’s calling others for help!” The Colonel gives them a puzzled look and comments. “Thought you didn’t know anything about these things?” Lex replies. “Long story, you had to be there!” The troops begin to tase the creature until it is silenced and limp.

     Off in the distance, large drag body trucks and another team is recovering the bodies of the two dead elephants. Lexie stares off at the sight and tears fill her eyes as the baby elephants body is drug onto the truck by a cable around its foot. Chewy is standing behind her and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Her eyes fill with tears as well as she covers her mouth to muffle a sob.

     Marines are wandering inside the great reception hall. Some are photographing the death and destruction and others are armed and checking the stage and doors for anything they can find. One young marine hears a faint crying and steps over to investigate. He eases the tip of his bayonet under the edge of the table cloth and slowly lifts it to reveal the cook still wrapped the post of the table pylon by his arms and legs. It takes several marines to pry him free of his death grip on the table and lay him out on a stretcher. His skin is raw from all the floor cleaning chemicals but his tenacious grip is relentless. From the main entrance doors, a corpsman yells out. “Sir! We found another survivor!”

    

     They carry a man wearing bleach-soaked chef’s clothing in obvious shock to an awaiting ambulance M.P.’s try to question him. The only word he utters is a terrified “Chupacabre, Chupacabre!” Chewy and the commander walk over to the terrified man after his clothing is cut off and he is strapped onto the stretcher. She takes her Lady of Guadalupe medal from around her neck and places it in his hands. She speaks to him in Spanish, asking him what had happened and what had he seen. He rambles on repeating the same thing over and over. He kisses her hand and the medal repeatedly and makes the sign of the cross and begins to pray loudly to it. “What do you think he saw Captain?” The Colonel asks. “Death sir, a whole lotta death.”

     Colonel Cross looks at Chewy. “Why are you still here captain?” “My ship had a low pressure alarm reading on it sir.” We’re waiting on a team to come inspect and repair it and I’ll take her back to base once they clear it.” “All right captain, get some rest and meet with me in my office tomorrow.” “We’re gonna be babysitting this operation in case those damned things decide to come back.” “Yes Sir, she snaps a crisp salute and heads back over to her gunship. She walks up to see Junior sleeping with his helmet in his lap in the front seat and just shakes her head and smiles.

     The one surviving raptor with frostbite to its feet causing the loss of its deadly hooked claws and nails is contained in a modified aquarium tank to be observed and recorded. Closed circuit cameras record the creature's every move as it explores its cage searching for weak spots. Wailing cries and hoarse raspy roars from the creature course through the night and triggers coyote packs to join in while a small band of raptors home in on its origin and make their way to the facility.

     During the autopsies, the bodies are subjected to epinephrine and electricity that causes weird "camouflaging effects". A phone call to the scientists states "you gotta’ come see this!" They enter another section of the lab and are greeted by a military technician who guides them to the cubicle to witness the experiment. Shimmering reflections of the scales produce a "wavy mirror appearance" obscuring the normal appearance of the creatures' skin.

     “We’ve seen these once before and they’re quite amazing!” They are displaying the same characteristics as the earlier specimens but now they can mutate the colors and even translucency of their skin. “Once before you say?!” “No, several times actually.” “And they’re steadily changing over the past year.” “About a year ago in Costa Rico and a few months ago in northern Mexico, we obtained a few specimens.”

     “That will be all marine!” A uniformed figure steps into the opening and the room falls silent. A corpsman in the room yells out “Attention!” Everyone in the room except Tim and Lex snap to attention and salute. It is General Strothers. There are four bright stars on his lapels and a chest full of ribbons. “Let’s everyone clear the room.” MP’s begin to escort everyone out of the room but the two scientists. Once the room is cleared, the general and our Costa Rican Official (Jimmie Smits) begin to speak.

     “So, I understand John Hammond was your grandfather?!” “I am Juan Angelo Guitteres, foreign minister for the Costa Rican government.” You must be Tim and Lex Murphey or, should I say Hammond-Murphy?” “We are.” The General speaks up. “We are familiar with this threat but, we need to know how to contain it.”  “We believe these things came from the Jurassic Park disasters off the coast of Costa Rica.” “We don’t quite know how but, they’ve mutated to the form you see here and we’re not sure just how many of them there are or where they’re hiding.” “We do know they can be quite intelligent and extremely deadly!” “Can you tell us anything else about INGEN and their plans to bring these things to the mainland?” “We haven’t been associated with INGEN ever!” “We buy their equipment like everyone else!” “We don’t know anything about bringing any dinosaurs back from that evil place!” “Maybe you should have talked to our uncle before he disappeared when he was trying to open that park a few years ago!”

     “Be that as it may, these creatures are here and they’ve caused a lot of damage.” “These latest mutations show they have somehow incorporated the marine DNA and have crossed species lines!” “For one thing, I understand that these creatures were originally warm-blooded!” “There have been earlier encounters with these creatures and not one has been good.” “They’re fast, they’re smart and we know they hunt in packs.” “Now they have the ability to camouflage as well”. “We have spoken with Dr. Alan Grant and he tells us that there was a group of Pterodactyls that escaped site ‘B’ _._ ”

     “Doctor Grant, you found Dr. Grant?” Lex and Tim respond excitedly in unison. “Is he coming here?” General Strothers responds. “No, he is out of the country on a dig but, he sends his regards.” “He believes the pterodactyls like the one you’ve been hiding from everyone, may have transported eggs to the mainland resulting in the creatures we’re facing now.” “There have been several more specimens collected not too far from here so it seems to fit.” Mr Guitteres injects. “My country has lost many people to these creatures and we too are searching for ways to remove them from our lands.” Mr Hammond’s creations have brought much death and sorrow to our people.” “We know the two of you are innocent of these crimes but, you are our best chance to defend my people from these monsters!” Tim interjects. “Wait a minute!” “You said ‘Site B’?”

     Mr Guitteres replies. “Yes, there are two islands and two INGEN facilities.” “Both breeding different species of dinosaurs.” Tim replies. “That would explain why we never saw any pterodactyls on our trip.” “They were on the other island!”   Lex asks. “What other species were they breeding?” General Strothers turns to Mr Guitteres and says. “These two don’t appear to have anything to do with our previous problems but, they may be our best hope to solve it.” “Agreed.” Replies Guitteres.

     General Strothers speaks again. “Dr. Grant has also told us that it is believed they can communicate and even coordinate attacks!” “Any idea how they can do that?” “Besides Dr. Grant, you two have the most experience on this matter so, we look to you for help.” “Although Dr. Grant is not available at the moment, he said he would try to meet with you soon.” “He asked me to give you this.” An assistant gives General Strothers a box and the general hands it over to Tim. Inside the delicate wrapping paper, there is an odd anatomically shaped object. “He said you would know what to do with it when the time came.” Attached is a note that simply states, “If you need me just whistle.” It’s the vocal chamber of a raptor.

     “We understand you have learned some gene manipulation from the samples you have acquired.” “Just how and where did you get them?” “What other specimens do you have in your possession?” “We need to know and we need to know now!” “These creatures are multiplying and we need to find a way to control and eliminate them!” The military officer opens a laptop and opens classified video footage of the two earlier mission encounters with the creatures and the resulting carnage. “You may hold the key to eradicating this thing but, you’ve got to tell us everything!” “The one thing we don’t know is how the hell can we exterminate them without losing our own people?” The scientists look at each other and the pair utters in unison, “The Freezer!”

     “We already know about that specimen.” “We have interrogated the reporter who brought it to you and some hunters from the desert valley who killed a couple earlier this year.” “We just figured that you were the best custodian for the specimen.” “And anything you might learn from it would eventually be shared with us anyway.” “No” Lexie replies. “The creature you found alive in the freezer.” “I need some living tissue samples from it.”

     Tim and Lex return to the storage area and begin taking samples of dead raptors. “We have three causes of death here. Some have been shot; some have been crushed but these, (referring to the creatures overcome by chlorine). “What killed these raptors?” They dissect the shot and crushed specimens but draw no new conclusions. Then, they begin dissecting the chlorinated raptors and discover the disintegration and become puzzled. Lex opens the thorax of the first specimen and reaches in to view the internal organs. “It’s likes melting Jell-O in here. Nothing is intact. No lungs; no heart; No vascular system; and no organs that are identifiable. It’s like it just dissolved from the inside out. Even muscle and bone are softened like some accelerated rotting process. Lexie extends the incision up the anterior throat of the raptor, all the way to the soft under jaw. The trachea seems to be completely closed off by edema and tissue destruction. “I can’t tell which stinks worse, the flesh or the ammonia.” “That’s not ammonia, that’s chlorine.” Tim replies. A brown foggy haze of chlorine gas is noticed rising up out of the tissues. The scent travels across the room and one young marine becomes nauseated and begins to vomit. Lex shouts out. “Hey!” “Don’t go contaminating the samples!” The young marine quickly leaves the room still gagging. “This doesn’t make any sense.” “What do you think happened to it Tim?” “Beats me but, it’s as though it has been ‘denatured’ in some way.” It’s like someone poured acid down its throat. Pulling off her gloves, Lexie tells Tim. “Let’s get those living tissue samples and see what we’re missing here.”

****

** Best Laid Plans **

****

****

     Cruising down the narrow highway, a refrigerator tractor trailer carries incarcerated illegal aliens to their nightly work station. The driver and guard in the cab share casual conversation. “You know, if this thing ever goes south, we’ll end up behind bars with some of these guys and it’s gonna get ugly!” “No worries man, your friends made plans to stick together and most of my buddies are heading back to Australia without a trace of ever being here in the first place.” “Your gracious Governor has provided for everything.”   “All we have to do is keep our mouths shut.”   The driver responds. “I noticed all you guards have an accent.” “Yeah, we’re from all over.” “Some of us are from Australia; New Zealand; South Africa and, a few Europeans.” “A real mix of mercenaries you might say.”   “The checks just say that we’re ‘Security Contractors’ so, we’re all here on work visas and can leave at the drop of a hat.”

     The truck rolls down the dark roads hitting an occasional pothole and jostling the passengers in the trailer. There are about forty illegal aliens in the trailer and each one is wearing a taser anklet. Two guards are sitting in chairs that fold down and are equipped with shock absorbers. They have remote activation devices and keep them pointed at the detainees. The taser anklets are all set to the same channel and when one is activated, every ankle bracelet is charged. It is brutal punishment for all. No one dares make a move or gesture towards the guards for fear of the painful reprisal to follow. The guards are also armed with pistols and assault rifles to handle individuals who might forget the seriousness of their captivity.   They are all aware of the hopelessness of their situation.

     They have all been told that they will be allowed to leave after they have completed 50 trips to the work area. They have all been tattooed on the forearm and warned that any incursion back into the country will be an automatic death penalty! They have been told they can never come back or even apply legally for citizenship. Their indoctrination has been quite thorough! Their tattoos are encoded with an infrared dye to identify them as “repeat offenders” should they ever try to enter the country again. The tattoo is simply “Chupa” in Cyrillic alphabet and appears simply as “4yna”.

     The worksite is bustling with traffic and a cement truck has just finished unloading and washing out. The driver is climbing into his cab and receives a text message from his wife. “The baby is sick and I’m taking him to the E.R. meet me at the hospital”. The driver takes off and speeds down the dark road to join his wife and child. Another text comes across his phone. He looks down to pick up his phone as he enters a curve. He knocks the phone onto the floor of his cab and reaches down to retrieve it. He swerves into the oncoming lane as he lunges for the phone.   When he looks back up, he sees the headlights of the oncoming tractor trailer and overcompensates to miss it. The big cement truck fishtails and is side-swiped by the semi. Both vehicles slide off the shoulder of the road and overturn. The rear doors on the trailer fall open.

     Mercifully, no one is seriously injured and people begin to crawl out and move clear of the smoking rig. A few of the workers manage to overpower and disarm the guards. They begin passing the keys around to remove the ankle tasers. A few take swings at the guards to exact a little revenge.   A patrolling county sheriff’s deputy spots the wreck and calls it in as he proceeds to the scene with lights and siren.

     Some of the workers panic and begin running in all directions away from the wreckage. They take the guard’s weapons and flee into the darkness. The driver and guard in the cab are still climbing out of the door as the deputy pulls up to the scene. He asks if anyone is hurt and then sees to two guards near the rear of the trailer with some cuts and bruises. They slowly gain their feet and ask the deputy for his phone. Questioning further, the deputy becomes suspicious about the incident and instructs the men to sit on the ground until an ambulance arrives. The guards continue to ask for a phone but the deputy refuses. One of the guards rises to his feet and the deputy draws his weapon and orders him to return to the ground. An ambulance and several other units lights and sirens approach in the distance.

     The tractor trailer was equipped with a GPS tracking device and, not long after the ambulance and other law enforcement arrive, a small convoy pulls up on the scene.   Guards armed with assault rifles and a man in a dark suit step out and approach the deputies and EMS crews. A deputy calls out for them to stay back and the guards halt and take up a tactical formation. They train their weapons on the deputies and order them to stand down. The man in the dark suit approaches and tells the deputies there is no need for alarm and to relax. He orders his guards to lower their weapons and the situation relaxes for a moment.

     “We are here to retrieve our personnel. Is anyone injured? The deputy tells them there are no major injuries but this situation warrants investigation and asks the man what authority he has over the scene. The man pulls out a cell phone and dials a number. After telling the party on the other end of the phone what the situation is, he hands the phone to the deputy.   “Here is my authority young man.” The deputy speaks into the phone. This is deputy Hargrove of Imperial County Sheriff’s department.” “And, whom am I speaking to?”

     At about the same time, a radio message from dispatch is heard for all personnel on the scene to return to duty stations. It also notifies the deputies on the scene that they are to relinquish control to the parties there and leave immediately. “Yes sir, I understand and give the governor my regards as well please.” The deputy hands the phone back to the man in the dark suit and replies. “You gentlemen have a safe evening.” “Goodnight!” EMS crews and Law enforcement load back up in their vehicles and leave the scene. Conversations explode in the vehicles as questions about the event boil over. Our deputy in charge of the scene reaches across his seat and examines a taser anklet he retrieved from the scene. He pulls out his phone and calls his uncle who is a detective in San Diego. “Uncle Malcolm?” “This is Treavor, I just worked a weird call and I wanted to run it by you.” “Can I come up tomorrow and talk to you about it?” “Fine, thanks, I’ll see you then.”

     Out away from the accident, in the darkness of night, numerous illegal aliens are making their way back across the borders into Mexico. Some are still wearing their ankle bracelets.

 

 

** Damage Control **

****

****

     A couple hours earlier than usual, the Governor storms into his office and throws his coat over the first chair inside the room. He walks straight to the liquor cabinet and pours himself a drink. Bilkes is sitting at a coffee table with his laptop and furiously typing. “How did this happen?!” We lost 40 illegals last night and get a sheriff’s posse to witness our work!” “What the hell happened out there?” Bilkes answers. “Relax Sir, the illegals left the scene before any one saw them and no evidence was found that they even existed.” “The only thing the deputies saw was an empty trailer and two overturned trucks.”   “And what are the detainees going to tell the Mexican authorities when they make it back home?”

     The governor continues to pace about the room.   “They are certain to be watching all traffic on the border roads now.” “They probably have surveillance set up already.” “I need that sheriff in my office today!” “Sir, with all due respect, wouldn’t that just draw more attention to our operation?” The governor finally makes it to his chair and falls back into it. He sees the newspaper from the previous stories of the attack on the animal park earlier. He gets up out of his chair and walks over to the table and picks the paper up to read it. Returning to his desk, he turns the page to continue reading the story. It outlines the lack of access to the event by local law enforcement and rubs his chin thinking about his next move. “Get that sheriff in here today.” “I think I have the solution to our problem.” “Don’t you have connections at Pendleton?” “Yes sir, just what did you have in mind?” A loud knocking at the door followed by a Marine General and his escort detail, enter the room. It is General Strothers and Colonel Cross. The MP staff step back outside and close the doors.

     “Governor!” “General?” Finishing off the last swallow of his drink and slamming the glass on his desk in defiance. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit from you this morning?” “Why don’t you pour yourself another drink and have a seat governor, we have a little situation to discuss.” “You may as well pour yourself one Mr. Bilkes, You may need it!” Colonel Cross says nothing but begins to set up the projection screen on the governor’s A/V presentation console as if he’d done it a hundred times before. Bilkes and the governor exchange puzzled looks as they witness the expertise at the use of their equipment by the 2 strangers who have never been inside the office before. Colonel Cross inserts a video card in the reading slot and activates the system with his own controller. An overhead drone video and audio recording of the previous night’s accident plays out on the big screen, along the resulting escape of dozens of illegal aliens. Facial recognition files flash across the screen and Identities and files pop up next to each of the individuals in almost real-time. The Governor and Bilkes stare at each other in amazement.   General Strothers speaks again. “We’ve been watching your little extra-curricular activities for a while now and up until last night deemed it a ‘Non-Threat’ to national security.”   “That is, until we started looking into   a few of your associates’ backgrounds.” “Mr. Bilkes, did you not, at one time work for INGEN?” “And did you not, at one time visit Isla Sorna or Site-‘B’, for the specific purpose of procuring specimens to return to INGEN’s San Diego exhibition site?” “Why yes but,” Without missing a beat in the rhythm of the questioning, General Strothers asks. “And do you now employ numerous former INGEN security staff to monitor the site today?” “Yes but,” “No buts, Mr. Bilkes.” You employ roughly 46 security staff to guard an abandoned site that previously used 8 subcontracted security guards.” “You also now employ some 120 plus staff for food, laundry and ‘other’ support staff at that facility?” “We are curious as to what or whom and more importantly ‘Why’ you or shall I say, the State Government is so intimately involved in INGEN’s payroll?”  

     Shall I conjecture the true nature of your little ‘slave-labor’ project or, would you care to enlighten me yourself?” The Governor attempts to call the general’s bluff and leans back in his chair. He throws his boots up on top of the desk and asks. “What would the Marines care about sovereign state government business activities and expenditures?” “When My marines are placed in harm’s way and die to defend Americans from the irresponsible actions of tyrannical megalomaniacs such as yourself, governor!” “That makes it very much my business!” “So tell me more about your relationship with INGEN and these monsters who’ve already killed scores of people in your great state!”

     Colonel Cross pulls up video of the raptor attack from the Animal park ceremony night.   He freezes on a clear picture of a raptor. “Mr. Bilkes, were you not assigned to biosecurity at INGEN for the return and display of your corporations’ creations in the San Diego facility?” “Yes But, there were to be No Raptors brought back!” Only the T-Rex and the rest were supposed to be vegetarian species!” “Wait!, those don’t look like our raptors!” General Strothers asks without missing a beat. “Oh, so you take some ownership here?” “No!” “I’m telling you that whatever that thing is, it’s NOT a raptor or, at the very least, anything designed and created at INGEN!”

     “Created, the general repeats.” The General pauses to think about Bilkes’ choice of words. “I like how you throw that word out there like you believe you actually had the God-given power to create anything!” “You wield it like some kid who just found his father’s gun!” “That’s probably more horrifying than what we are up against out there!” “Your perceived ‘power to create’!” The General looks back over at Col. Cross and nods at him to proceed. Colonel Cross pulls up screen shots of the INGEN facility and its roving security. It shows the tractor trailers coming and going with time stamps. It shows their work at the border and the almost comical costumes of the ‘chupacabre’ guards overseeing their work.   The governor speaks up. “What better way to earn all the free welfare they’ve taken illegally from our state than to work for it?” “The wall they once walked through freely is a little better prepared to stop them the next time they try.” Bilkes speaks up to augment the governor’s statement. “They are housed and fed humanely and they are not beaten or tortured.”   “Torture”, the general speaks again while shaking his head. “I must say, it appears that the two of you have thought this through to a science!” “I guess psychological torture doesn’t play into accountability in your little plan anywhere either.” “Perhaps some of our politicians in Washington should take lessons from the two of you on how to fix the problems of this great nation!” “Again, you are both incorrect!” “You have fed on some very real fears of these people and, I’m beginning to realize that you are either truly and completely irresponsible or just lucky maniacal fools!”   “There is a much greater danger facing us than your border problem at the moment!”

     Colonel Cross brings up some combat footage and casualty pictures of previous engagements with the creatures and the aftermath of the animal park incident. The Governor and Bilkes are dumbstruck and become locked in stares of disbelief at the monitor. The governor asks. “Why are there so many pictures of blood?” “Where are the bodies?” The governor waves his hand as if to attempt to downplay if not dismiss some of the pictures. “Eaten sir, because there’s nothing left!” Colonel Cross pulls up more pictures of body parts freed from their victims. The Governor sits back down in his chair with a defeated look of shock and disbelief on his face. General Strothers asks. “How many detainees are you currently housing there at the moment governor?” Bilkes takes out his cell phone, wipes his glasses and pulls up the headcount in his daily messages. “Two Hundred and twelve this morning and sixteen enroute from capture points throughout the state are scheduled to arrive by 10:00 a.m.”

     “So, it seems the two of you have work to do to get those people out of there before they become the next convenient buffet for the real Chupacabre!” The Governor asks. “Next Buffet you say?” “Yes!” “There are reports of creatures attacking border towns and moving north at a steady pace.” “We also have reports of attacks from the mountain ranges east of Camp Pendleton.” “We will be directing the media to begin broadcasting evacuation orders, routes and safe zone information within the hour.” “Your little early release of detainees last night stirred the hornet’s nest and spiked activity around the area.” “The only natural barrier we have found for these things is the temperatures at high altitudes below 32 degrees or standing snow and ice.” Colonel Cross finally speaks. “It appears our new friends catch colds pretty easy!” “And, they suffer frostbite at the freezing point.”   “Other than that, the only thing that stops these things is bullets and bombs!” “I don’t think you want to turn your beautiful state into a war zone, do you?” The Governor reaches for his phone. General Strothers phone rings first and he answers it. “Yes, this is he sir.” “Yes, I am speaking with the Governor at this very moment.”   “When was this confirmed, by whom?” “Yes Sir, I’ll dispatch an immediate response to the area sir!”

     As he puts his phone away, General Strothers gets a text on his phone and speaks back to the governor. “Cancel the evacuation Governor!” They won’t make it out in time.” “Our surveillance drones and ground teams have spotted large groups of creatures already in and around the area.” “Contact them and have them shelter in place until my men can affect a rescue and clear them out.” “My guards are well armed and can manage an evacuation General!” “They can’t fight what they can’t see.” “So at least I know you aren’t responsible for bringing these things here.” “You don’t seem to know anything about their stealth or capabilities.” “Stealth?” The governor asks. Colonel Cross pulls up gunship and helmet footage of the creatures and the governor and Bilkes stare at each other in total disbelief. General Strothers repeats himself. “Order your people to lock down and shelter in place until we arrive!” “Do it now governor!” The governor and Bilkes begin hastily calling and relaying the messages.  “Colonel, pack up and let’s go!” “We have some battles to plan.”  

 

** Raptors Attack **

****

****

     As groups of raptors funnel their way through the brushy mountain passes, Troops at Camp Pendleton are gathering into small convoys and loading weapons to take to the fight. All manner of military hardware are lined up to execute the rescue mission that lie ahead. Humvees with .50 caliber machine guns and Stryker assault vehicles loaded with troops and Bush Master cannon systems line up in the like some parade exhibit. Even a dozen or more M1A1 Abrams loaded with canister shot rounds not used in decades take their positions in the ranks.

     Helicopters on the nearby air stations are loaded to capacity with ammunition and small rockets to prepare for the upcoming skirmishes.   Warehouses near the motor pool and ammo dumps open their doors and spew out a dozen or more new field trial weapons like the high sonic projectors and microwave antipersonnel suppression systems. near the motor pool and ammo dumps open their doors and spew out a dozen or more new field trial weapons like the high sonic projectors and microwave antipersonnel suppression systems.

     Offshore, the U.S.S. Tripoli is preparing its contingent of AAV-7 amphibious assault vehicles for landings at INGEN’s harbour. Helicopter troops are preparing and loading Super Stallions and Apache’s for the landings as well. Overhead, drones and scout helicopters are surveying the threat. Due to the reflective nature of the raptor’s scales and cold-blooded body temperatures, their task is difficult if not impossible. Most of the pilots have been briefed and shown teaching videos made by command to help them identify the threat but, the absorption rate among air crews has been marginal at best. Around the region, air bases are preparing for “Live fire exercises”. Most don’t know the reality of their missions. The crews are only told this is an ‘All contingencies training drill’. Two great B-52’s are loaded with small 250 pound munitions and fuelled on the runway and given similar instructions. Again, they do not know the nature of their missions other than a drill. At Edwards Air Force Base, a B-2 stealth bomber is loaded with stand-off nuclear cruise missiles. The 2-man crew is briefed that they may be called upon to fire their weapons over American soil. They are briefed on the potential threat and are the only pilots in the entire military service who know the true intent of their mission.

     With the exception of the Costa Rican operation, the raptors have never attacked during daylight hours and the military feels this daylight preparation is their greatest advantage. The furious pace of fuelling and loading carries on into the twilight hours.

     The sun sets low on the Pacific and western facing mountainsides grow dim as the curtain falls blackening the already darkened valleys. The caves loaded with generations of raptors grow restless. The numbers of raptors far exceeds their supplies of food. Alphas begin their characteristic barks to gather hunting parties. Males, females and juveniles gather and begin the treks toward populated areas. Packs break away from hordes of creatures streaming down paths and trails. Native wildlife like deer and coyotes seem to know the coming danger and join flight. There is no predator / prey activity tonight. All know they must flee to escape the tide of death washing down and around them. A young deer steps into a ground squirrel hole and struggles to gain its feet. A coyote with pups stops momentarily and grabs the young deer by the nape of the neck and pulls it free then, continues its own race to safety. The young deer hastily catches up with its mother and sibling to re-join the run for survival from the yet unseen but known danger approaching. A sounder of wild pigs is rooting in a planted field when the lead sow sniffs the air and alarms the group to flee. Younger pigs run headlong into a group of the ravenous creatures and is scooped up like travel snacks. Their squeals of desperation are short in the jaws of their captors. Running back to rescue her piglets, a sow is circled by raptors and although she puts up a courageous fight, she is quickly dismembered and devoured by the greater beasts.

     Closing in on the nearby road, another group stops in the middle of the pavement to stare at oncoming headlights. The driver swerves and barley misses the group of great beasts. He looks into his side view mirror and slows to almost a stop. One of the creatures has broken away to give chase. The entire group has turned to follow and, with their backs to oncoming traffic, is hit by a tractor trailer rounding the curve. The big rig lurches and bounces as it rolls over the group. Seeing the semi barrelling down on him, the driver stomps down on the accelerator pedal and leads the raptor in a race. Leaving the creature behind slowly but steadily, he sees the big rig roll over it sending it flying out from between its tires. The driver brakes hard to avoid hitting the slower car and finally comes to a stop in the road. He steps out onto the running board of the truck and looks back to see the group of animals he has just hit. From the high embankment on the side of the road, a raptor screams its shrill call and jumps at the driver just missing its mark. The driver falls back into the cab and lands between the gearshift and console putting the big rig in gear. Jerking and jolting, the truck starts to move down the road. Lunging against the torque of its big diesel engine, the cab door slams repeatedly against his legs. He is stuck and held to the cab floor. The truck rolls blindly down the road. An oncoming 18 wheeler sees the driverless truck begin to swerve into his lane.

     The second driver lays on his horn to warn him. Knowing the sound and direction, the entrapped driver pulls his knees up just before the oncoming truck strikes and shears his cab door off. He reaches up with his free hand and pulls the kill switch and Jake-brakes the big truck to a ragged bouncing stop. Working with his last bit of strength, he manages to free himself. He pulls himself into the driver’s seat. He takes some deep breaths and clears his head for a moment.

     The other truck has come to a stop and the driver is running back to check on him. In the fender-mounted mirror, he sees the driver running towards him and then suddenly taken down by a raptor. The raptor and its prey slide across the road and out of sight of the injured driver. Frantically, he tries to restart his truck. Another raptor is charging up the side of the truck. After several long seconds of spinning the starter, the big diesel roars to life sending black smoke belching into the air. The charging raptor stops short and is disoriented by the display of great power. Unsure of its next move, the raptor stands frozen and the big machine moves down the road. The driver’s right leg is broken and he must synchronize his RPMs to shift. He brings the truck up to speed and leaves the horrific scene behind. He grabs the microphone of his radio and begins calling for help from anybody.

     Managing to make it a few miles down the road, the little car he passed earlier is in a ditch on the side of the road and the driver is waving him down for help. He passes the driver leaving him behind waving in the road. He flips him the bird and curses the poor fellow for putting him in his current predicament in the first place.

     He pulls into a truck stop and sees that the creatures have beaten him there. Raptors are busy feeding on patrons throughout the parking lot and even inside the restaurant and plaza. He is low on fuel but there will be no stopping here. He guns the big rig and continues on down the road. Finally running into a road block manned by highway patrol and Sheriff’s Deputies he rolls to a stop and feels safe for the first time. Officers help him out of the truck and load him into a cruiser for a trip to the hospital. Even though his story is horrifying, it is old news to the Trooper driving him to the nearby hospital.

     Raptors are flooding the area from every direction and tales of death and mayhem are news of the day. Emergency broadcast systems or warning everyone to evacuate the region. Helicopter News reporters are filming packs of Raptors infiltrating outlying neighbourhoods pillaging and killing every living being in sight. Nothing is safe!

     In another report, military convoys are pouring out of Camp Pendleton and surrounding bases. Gunfire and skirmishes with the creatures are streaming live on national TV. Local law enforcement are bravely combatting the beasts and trying to contain the threats. Fires are erupting throughout the area and Fire fighters are powerless to help anyone. Destruction and death seem assured for anyone left in the area.

 

 

** Well Underway **

 

 

     Mass helicopter evacuations are attempting to remove as many of the San Diego residents as possible under the watchful eyes of military leaders who have decided that total annihilation of the city is the only remaining option. The citizens are being "picked off like berries on a bush". All of San Diego's naval station is evacuated save a few rigid pontoon boats ferrying survivors to an offshore group of ships and, many animals at SeaWorld are released into the sea.

     A family of otters gathers itself holding hands to form a raft and seek refuge in a nearby kelp forest. A large family group of walrus and sea lions gathers on nearby rocks and bark, howl and roar in protest as they witness raptors attack and consume the members of their herds left behind.

     A few miles away, the Zoo becomes a virtual home base for dozens of creatures with the bodies of herbivores littering the compound. A great Giraffe is taken down by the neck and legs by a trio of raptors as its calf huddles under some brush nearby and watches helplessly. The Carnage throughout the park is unimaginable. Animals run loose through the park and some are cut down by the raptors to meet horrible swift ends.

     A leopard stands in defiance guarding its young offspring as the creatures pounce on it. The battle is vicious and swift but, the leopard loses and becomes just another meal for the attackers. Its cubs crawl into nearby rock structures and hide away as their mother is tossed in the air like a play toy and her body ripped to pieces in a tug of war between several creatures. Raptors materialize from seemingly everywhere as some jump from tops of buildings and others are coming out of every corner. The park animals still trapped inside the grounds make easy prey for the frenzied raptors. Some being consumed while they are still alive!

     A mated pair of sun bears takes up back to back defensive positions and manages to take down a couple raptors before they are overwhelmed and ripped apart. Their young cub has found a hiding place in the rocks just out of reach of the frenzied raptors. Primates scurry to their highest possible refuges in their tree planted paddocks and scream in protest at the carnage below.

     Through the grounds of Sea World, a mother Egyptian goose frantically leads her young to the water’s edge dodging dozens of creatures and miraculously, they all make it to the safety of the bay. Flamingos take flight in short bounds due to their clipped wings and most make it to the safety of the water. Penguins dive deep to the bottoms of their pools and polar bears slash back at the invading creatures. Most of the bears dive headlong into the frigid waters of their pools but the remaining male that chooses to fight back is jumped on and taken down by the ravenous attackers. Its off-white fur turns more crimson with every lash of the raptor’s claws. Mercifully, it slides into the ice cold waters of its paddock but sinks to the bottom lifelessly with its horrible wounds.

     In a nearby pond for rehabilitated sea turtles, several creatures nip and slash at the disabled beasts and manage to pull a couple out and crush them in their voracious jaws. Terror explodes through the grounds as raptors ply their deadly trade.

     In the great tanks of Sea World, several raptors are riding the back of a pilot whale in its enclosure and are taking turns ripping blubber and flesh from its back. A killer whale in an adjacent tank leaps over the wall and vengefully tears through the attackers with its great jaws and teeth. Several raptors are caught up in the whales’ mouth at once and as his jaws close on them, the explosive sounds of snapping bone can be heard. Pools of deep royal purplish blue trail from the Orca’s jaws as he shakes his great head and, shreds the raptors in its jaws.

     One raptor tries to swim to the wall and while one of its legs is still being brought out of the water, the great Orca clamps down with its jaws and with a twitch of its great head slings the raptor against the opposite wall with a force that splatters the creature like a plastic baggy full of eerie blue blood. Raptor body parts slowly sink to the bottom of the giant tank and their blood mingles with the water like blue watercolours in an artist’s brush washing glass. In a gallant move, the great bull Orca pushes the pilot whales dying body onto the ramp at the performing stage and lays its great head next to its dying companion as it ceases to breathe and its huge eye becomes fixed in death.

     An excited group of raptors begin pouncing on the corpse and try to drag it away to feed on the beast a safe distance from the Orca’s reach. Some taunt the great Killer whale near the edge of the tank and jump in an apparent hunting kill ceremonial fashion. It is reminiscent of the tribal dances of African Tribes. In protest, the Orca makes circles around the tank and with its powerful tail throws water over the jubilant attackers. Several raptors appear to be celebrating their kill and venture too close to the performing ramp and continue to taunt the great Orca. In a calculated move, the whale dives and builds speed. Lie a great “slingshot” it hurls its’ great body up and onto the ramp taking out all the raptors on the ramp and making them easy pickings in the water. Their dancing has ceased.

 

** Capture the Flag **

****

 

     Several miles up the I-5 corridor, San Diego is nearly overrun by a chaotic mixture of stampeding wildlife and stealthy raptors. A young marine and an "old vet are hunkered down in a fox hole in a San Diego neighbourhood. After seeing their platoon buddies wiped out. The old sarge reminisces about a movie he saw where soldiers made a "clicking sound during the D-day invasions identifying friend or foe with ammo magazines metal clips. The old sarge leaves the foxhole to recon and the young soldier waits impatiently. A while later, a clicking noise is heard by the young soldier and he returns the sound. Instead of being his old sarge who was devoured by raptors, it is a raptor with its claw toe stuck in the sarge's "zippo" lighter clicking with each step. The young soldier is subsequently devoured after standing to greet his old sarge back.

     Instead of combating the creatures, the Marines are ordered to fall back to the north and set up a "No man's land" zone parameter" allowing nothing in or out of the area to survive. Dillon M-134 miniguns mow the area at the slightest movement by motion detectors. Truck mounted units loaded to the brim with ammo and batteries line the parameter. There are several Humvees with odd-looking dishes mounted on top that are microwave emitters that burn tissue from several hundred yards away.

     Even an indigenous jack rabbit falls prey to the blistering fire as it hops around in the killing zone. Several creatures try to charge the perimeter and are caught in the microwave dish’s heat. Not knowing which way to run, they are overwhelmed by the heat and fall to the ground in seizure-like convulsions until their flesh begins to bubble and they finally burst like overstuffed sausage casings in a microwave oven with their entrails spilling out and popping as well. Their once blue blood now blackened for the act of being cooked. Motion detectors are planted everywhere and even retired “bouncing betty” anti-personnel mines take their toll of the creatures and any unfortunate animal that triggers them.

     A raptor walking through a sandy trail steps on one device and noticing the loud “click” freezes in its tracks for a moment to survey the surroundings. Fast side to side twitches of its head look for any origin of the sound. Seeing nothing to respond to, it takes another step as the mine’s propelling charge ignites and send the bouncing betty (in slow motion) spinning into the air and exploding chest high on the creature tearing flesh from its chest and abdomen hurling it through the air and leaving it kicking and running on its side like some slap-stick comedy routine.

     Nothing is safe! No tree stands for hundreds of yards. Stumps smoulder after the hail of horizontal fire. On a water tower several hundred feet above the old navy yard motor pool, a young marine sniper and his spotter are given orders and coordinates to their “nest”. They climb to the platform and build their high-hide and await targets. In the darkness one of them see shimmering images moving across the grounds below. He elbows the other and directs his gaze to the mirages below. A burning truck back lights one of the creatures. Their silhouette now discovered, the sniper takes aim and begins to pick off the creatures one at a time. The muffled cracks of the suppressed weapon begin to take a toll on the attackers and bodies of the beasts litter the now deserted streets of the evacuated base.

 

      Military aircraft take the fight to the creatures who become quite good at evading IR (because their cold blooded) (poikilothermic) and natural camouflage (Chameleon) (Nat Gear tm) skin helps them blend in to almost any background. They are virtually invisible to thermal imaging and FLIR (Forward Looking Infra-Red). Only motion detectors can sense their presence. Doppler radar can only pick up their movement and motionless they are totally invisible! Moving debris in an apartment complex gives the raptor’s position. A bomb run drops cluster munitions over the complex and takes a toll on the pillaging raptors. Creatures lie around some dismembered and some disembowelled still trying to crawl and dying as the bomblets do their work of indiscriminate destruction. Sadly, there are bodies of some fallen Marines among them and they too suffer the obliteration of the cluster bombs as well. Nothing is sacred in this struggle of annihilation.

 

** Down South of the Border **

 

 

     While sparse traffic whizzes by on a dusty desert highway, at a strawberry stand on the side of the road, a raptor sits rocking in a chair studying a poster holding a sombrero and then trying it on as the half-eaten vendor lies next to his fruit display rack. A burning and melting piñata hangs dripping "zilches" of melting plastic and slowly dropping its contents of candy pieces on the floor as souvenir blankets fly through the air like confetti while the raptors ransack through the stand. Background music is playing (Maleguena Se La Rosa) A lone child survivor huddles under a pile of the blankets and is nearly discovered when an apache attack helicopter opens fire and “neutralizes the threat”.

     They see the bodies of the victims but no raptors. They make out the carnage without means and decide it is the work of present yet unseen raptors. They have received briefings from a video made by Chewy that was earlier spread to all air attack groups. Aiming their guns at everything moving without a heat signature, they open fire! Iridescent bluish blood turns to a misty fog spraying everything like a punctured can of spray paint spinning on the ground, sending the marauding raptors scattering into the surrounding hills.

     The heat signature of a child is clearly visible and the guns are carefully trained away from her small form in the hail of 30mm rounds. The child is found safe and rescued by a follow-up landing of Mexican soldiers sent in to clean up the scene. The child's mother, injured but alive is found as well among the rubble. A Mexican marine squad, patrolling the nearby village streets, is ambushed and after a frantic fire-fight is left overwhelmed and suffer many dead in the streets as a photo of a young couple and their child holding an iguana skips away in the breeze escaping from a dead marine's pocket. He lies just outside of an exotic pet store where chameleon lizards crawl over a multi-colored low-rider taking on its hues and shades as it makes its way into the street. Crawling up on the chest of the fallen soldier, it rests on his camouflage and mimics its pattern.

     Chaos ensues as gangs take on the raptors with limited success from illegal armament and hate-driven courage. One young gang member pulls out a photo of his older American cousin in the marines who was once a gang member himself and he shared stories about his cousin and their "glory days" when they were in the gang together. It is a boot camp photo of Sargent Ramirez. He and a small handful of others take up a rooftop position and pull up the access ladders as all their ammunition has been spent. With most of them wiped out by the raptor bands, Small border villages suffer similar fates. The few survivors huddle together as the cold night air settles in around them while they wait for any possible rescue. One boy starts to pray the rosary and the rest join in softly as night’s dark fingers cover them. Aside from a few fires in the ransacked village, their makeshift candles are the only visible light from above.

     The staccato beat of helicopter rotors grows louder with each passing moment and suddenly, the group of survivors is bathed in the glare of aerial spotlights. A Mexican Marine corps Black hawk has found them and hoists them one by one to safety. Impressed by the professionalism of the men, the sophistication of the equipment and the immeasurable awe of the experience, each and every boy make a pact to travel to Mexico City, finish school and join the Marines.

         

** Happy Birthday **

 

 

     At an upscale ranchero perched high on a mountain plateau guarded by armed thugs and drug traffickers, Raptors make their way through high desert brush in the middle of the night. They are attracted by the noise and festivities of the early evening.

     Earlier that afternoon a grand birthday party was held for the young daughter of the Drug lord. There were a few other children there, mostly children of the guards and housekeepers. Extravagant gifts were bestowed upon the child. There was a pony dyed a brilliant rainbow motif with a glued on unicorn horn; a collection of expensive dolls; piñatas of gold and silver leaf and, a diamond studded flea circus. The child is enthralled in the flea circus and its motions. The child asks her parents, “Can’t you see the fleas Ma Ma and Pa Pa? Oh, Can’t you see the fleas Ma Ma”? It is an elaborate board display with numerous scenes from a parade, a circus and tiny trapeze all working mechanically with flashing LED lights and sparkling gems along with a music box playing traditional circus music.

     The evening ends with Mariachi music and a fireworks show that would rival most small town’s Fourth of July celebrations. The child is later put to bed after dozing off watching her flea circus and the pony tied to a dog stake in the back yard. House staff clean up the obliterated piñatas and carefully collect the spilt candy for their own poor pockets while the high class parents watch the evening news broadcast of Governor Schwarzenegger who is visiting the president of Mexico, proclaim “Operation Chupacabre” a success. They laugh and chuckle as they brag about their successful border crossings as an older housekeeping woman spits on the floor. She is standing just inside the kitchen door out of sight form the rest of the party.

     She shakes her head no and returns to her work. She reminisces about her young teenage son who just a short time ago disappeared while making one such border crossing for the Drug Lord and never returned. He had promised his mother a better life and good income with this new job. Moving her into the Ranchero with him and taking on the housekeeping job, they would start a better life. (He was a victim of the raptors in our earlier scene crossing the highway.)

     Another news story airs that shows a “not so bright desert-living” individual swear he has seen the Chupacabre! The clip shows the mutilated bodies of some farm animals and the surrounding desert mountains. In the background is the same sign warning of people crossing the highway. After some good laughs from all in the room subside, the Drug lord stands up and stretches with a loud yawn and announces his evening retirement. His wife joins him swiftly and the room empties.

     While cleaning some dishes in the kitchen, the old woman holds a medal of Our Lady of Guadalupe and prays for her son, while a young punk guard is cleaning his pistol at the table and sipping tequila. He hears her prayers and remarks “I made runs with Alejondro and he was the fastest runner I’ve ever seen! There’s no way a Chupacabre got him”! “It was probably a border guard’s bullet”! She tucks the medal back into her shirt. She calmly turns back to the counter to pick up and throw a butcher knife at the young guard and it lands point first into the wood of the table barely slicing into his finger webbing. The young man jumps to his feet and points his half-assembled pistol at the old woman and says “you crazy old bitch! If he wasn’t my friend too, I’d shoot you like a dog!”

     She just stares at him as if she was just waiting for an excuse to hurl another knife. He leaves the room holding his bleeding hand, dropping pistol parts on the floor as he leaves. A little while later, the housekeeper in the rich Mexican villa is wearing a Sony Walkman listening to music and is mopping the floors with bleach water and is attacked by a raptor jumping through a large open window. She raises her mop pointing it at the creature as she screams, striking it in the face. It gets a whiff of the bleach and escapes. Falling backwards, she slaps another one across the snout with a bleach-soaked mop leaving it to cough its bloody lungs out just outside the decorative fenced walls of the hacienda as it too tries to escape. She hears the eruption of gunfire and peering out of a few of the elegant cut-glass windows sees the carnage brought upon the outside guards.

     She hurries around and gathers children and ushers them into a safe room built into the mansion and safely locks herself and the children inside. A raptor jumps from a balcony to a roof ledge and scampers to the ridge. He sees a guard firing an automatic weapon and starts down for him when a tile breaks loose and a whole row breaks loose as he slides down the roof to plummet onto a fence and is impaled on the ornamental spires of a fence. It continues to try to run as if it were a carousel horse mounted on a brass pole. Another jumps the gunman from behind and cleanly bites off his head. The headless guard’s fingers lock down on his trigger. He empties his magazine while falling to the floor. His bullets dance in a wild arc into the night sky. Others in the horde jump and run down other gunmen and swiftly neutralize the threats.

     A group of guards standing around a fire drum are attacked. One of the men is thrown against the fire drum rolling it against a broken window, igniting the curtains. The fire quickly spreads. Furniture erupts into flames burns through the walls into a storage room filled with ammunition, drugs and bundles of cash.

     One after another, the gunmen fall to the raptors as they attack in a coordinated guerrilla fashion. Inside, the sleeping Drug Lord is awakened by the sound of the small war outside and reaches for his pistol on the nightstand and opens fire on the raptor crashing through the window into his bedroom. Only to be followed by several more as his gun is emptied. Struggling for another magazine, the drug lord is pounced upon on his bed. Another Raptor has latched on to the body of his wife and she is slung across the room like a doll. She is dead when she hits the floor.

     Some of the sleeping men jump out of bed in their underwear and are cut down. Many before they ever get off a shot. Like commandos attacking, the raptors begin jumping through windows and taking down their prey. The entire attack is over in a very short time. The rest of the house has been virtually destroyed. It is left in ruins as illegal stashes of ammunition; money and drugs explode. From a distance, it appears that the earlier fireworks show has gone off again. $100 dollar bills flutter like snow across the scene. Scattered thug guards lie dead and strewn among the ruins. Their exotic gold-plated weapons lay useless and scattered among the rubble.

     One raptor tries to pick up a gold plated .45 cal. 1911 and it fires sending the heavy slug though it’s lower jaw and out the top of its head leaving it twitching on the floor with its claw hand seemingly grasping the hand of the drug lord’s. As the sun rises the following morning, the woman leads the children out of the safe room to find that the destruction has been complete and bodies are strewn all over and most are partially devoured. The rainbow pony is wandering and limping around with its glued on horn barely hanging from its forehead. The flea circus sits on the ground still running from its dying battery slows and comes to a stop.

 

** Music Please **

         

 

     Back in the lab, the scientists struggle with blood and tissue samples to identify the creatures and categorize them. Raptor corpses and pterodactyl bodies lie side by side on a grouping of tables. Lex remembers the vial in her lab coat pocket she collected earlier while waiting on flat repair on the side of the interstate. The results are a match for the Raptors. The pterodactyl does not seem to have any of the mutation properties and their DNA seems relatively pure. She flashes back to the night she broke down on the interstate with a flat stopping right in front of a sign warning about people running across the road.

     Another lab technician brings a portable computer screen over to show the scientists and shows them the destroyed lung tissue samples of a creature exposed to common bleach water. Pterodactyl tissue is not affected by the bleach. “Which is the greater threat?” They ask the military commander and he states, “We’ve only seen a handful of the flyers. No attacks and No threat!” They calculate and formulate the required minimum amount of chlorine required to kill the creatures. It is amazingly minute but, calculating for 200% LD-50 results in less than one half teaspoon of bleach per quart of water! On average, chlorinated tap water only contains about 3/10 of a milligram per liter of water. It rapidly diffuses into the air once exposed to the atmosphere.

     Lex is sitting at a console reviewing C.T. images of the creatures when she comes across a familiar shape. She is puzzled at its familiarity. “Tim, come look at this?” Tim has been at the other end of the room analyzing numbers and chemical reactions. He is comparing the data from some Gas Chromatograph results he ran earlier. “Yes, what is it?” “Look at this scout image from the head C.T. on the raptor. Working her mouse, she brackets and enlarges the image. She pulls up the menu option to convert it to three dimensions.   Tim scratches his chin and like siblings usually do, they come to the same conclusion at almost the same time! “Dr. Grant!” The image is shorter but otherwise, identical to the item in the box Alan Grant sent them. It is not in the throat but situated more in the soft palate area of the skull. It is the vocal chamber of the Raptor! Tim retrieves the box and removes the 3D sculpted item. Aligning it with the C.T. image, he blows sharply into the proximal opening.

     The sound is harsh and multi-toned but results in the live captive raptor’s calling back. The creature becomes highly animated and begins to call unceasingly in response. They have excited the raptor so much that they fear the calling may attract other raptors to the area.   Tim and the veterinarian technician load a dart gun with ketamine and calculate the dose by the same rate for a large African lion and tranquilize the beast. It is enough to put the raptor down and then they fashion a muzzle and harness the beast’s mouth shut as it sleeps.

     Tim returns to Lex’s station and takes her seat. He converts the image and modifies it to fit a mouthpiece. He downloads the image and hands the flash drive to another technician and orders a 3D replica be made.

     Sitting off in a corner of the room, Carter and T-Boy are going through their equipment and hear the sounds coming from the vocal chamber replica. T-Boy asks Carter. “Man, what I wouldn’t give to be back home listening to some good ole zydeco! Carter replies. “My grandpa used to play in a Cajun band every Saturday night and practice his squeezebox on the front porch when I was a kid growing up.” “Hold on a minute!” “Hey Tim!” Carter shouts. He stands and walks over to Tim and Lexie. “I have an idea!”  He looks at the model and tells Tim to spit in it. “Spit in it?!” “Yeah, spit in it and get it wet inside.” “Ok listen, my grandpa used to play a Cajun accordion and it had two sets of reeds.” “One wet and one dry. “When he wanted to make a more vocal sound, he switched to the wet reeds.” It’s the same as a wet duck call and a dry duck call.” “The wetter the reed, the more natural the sound.” “It’s like when you try to speak with a dry throat and you have to work up the spit to talk or whistle.” Tim’s puzzlement is apparent on his face but he gives it a try and spits into the opening of the vocal box. The change is amazing. So much so, that Lexie puts her hands over her ears and is terrified by the sound. She is visibly shaken.   Tim’s ideas start to roll out of his head and onto his tongue. OK, here are some modifications I want you to make. Tim sits back down and manipulates his drawings and prints them out. He gives them to the waiting technician sends him off to the prototype lab.

     It takes roughly an hour for the prototype to come back and Tim tries out the new model. It is much closer in tone and pitch to the sleeping animal and he orders the technician to have as many made as possible given the supplies on hand. The technician tells him there is only enough material to make maybe a dozen of the calls. Carter speaks up and asks, “What do you need to make another hundred?” He gets on the phone to Colonel Cross and makes the order for materials. After he finishes talking to Colonel Cross, he turns back to Tim. “They’ll have it flown out in two to three hours!”

 

 

** Lab’s Last Stand **

****

****

     As a helicopter off-loads supplies with the heavily-armed contingent of marines, some of the cases are marked “High Explosives”. The requested supplies are delivered to Tim for the 3-D printers and he has them sent on to the shop for production. The other contingent of Marines takes their containers to various positions in the lab. Tim tells Lex about the containers and she is visibly disturbed by the news. She approaches the lead marine and questions their presence and mission. The squad leader gives her a short but horrifying answer. “We are to collect all data in the lab and destroy any creatures stored here.” The team leader adds. “Only if we’re overrun.” “All the research is to be brought back to command HQ.” The team leader is introduced to Carter who happens to be passing by. “Sir, the NCO in charge salutes and proceeds to relay his mission to Carter. “And after you blow the labs, then what?” Carter asks. “We detonate remotely after you, your team and the staff have been safely evacuated.” “Command wants the creatures completely destroyed so, if you would be kind enough to show my team where they are being stored, we’ll set our charges sir.” “Stand by and I’ll get back with you.” Carter replies.

     Carter pulls Tim and Lex aside to discuss the plan. “Command wants all possible traces of these monsters destroyed as soon as we finish our work and evacuate to safer positions.” “Safer positions?” Lex asks. “Yes, unfortunately, sensors have picked up increased movement in the areas and all signs so there is an imminent attack on our location.” How fast can you make those dinosaur calls?” Tim answers. “It takes about 18 to 20 minutes to make each one and I have 4 printers running at the same time.” “So, we can have 12 or so an hour ready.” Carter asks Tim. “Just exactly how are we going to use them and what is the goal?” “If we can draw them in close enough, we can release chlorine gas around a trap area and kill masses of them instead of trying to kill them off one at a time.” “We need users who can manipulate them into kill areas.” Tim tells Carter.” “So anyone who can use a duck call can play one of these?” “I think I have your callers!” Carter begins passing the word through the Marines and in a short period of time, roughly a dozen volunteers show up. Tim sets up a calling demonstration and teaches them the basic vocalizations they’ll need to lure the Raptors.

     The order is given earlier by Command General John Scott (Donald Sutherland). The general has just finished a satellite communication with Washington and the Secretary of Defense, who after conversations with the president (?) has ordered the air strike. Loading equipment and supplies onto the aircraft into the night, the compound is lit up with portable generators and lighting. After most of the aircraft have left, marines begin to take a break and set up guard throughout the almost deserted compound. They will leave out in the next wave and set off the charges. The night becomes still and quiet and some marines begin to doze in their hastily fashioned redoubts. Two Apache gunships sit in the parking lot at the north side of the buildings. A service vehicle has just finished loading the helicopter with fuel and munitions. Giving her cockpit glass one last wipe down, Chewy tells her co-pilot, I’m gonna go raid the kitchen. You want anything? Junior answers, “I’ll take a Ruben and sauerkraut with a frosty mug of beer.” “Oh, and a couple of those little after-dinner mints!” She laughs and replies, “I’ll make you something real good.”  

     She walks past a group of Spec. Ops. Marines, as Carter is finishing a briefing of the team. She catches his eye and he hurries to catch up with her. Low laughter can be heard from the team at his ‘school-boy’ behavior. “Ma’am!”. He calls out and as she turns to acknowledge him, he gives a hasty salute. She returns it and turns to continue her walk into the building. She is ahead of him by at least a few good paces and steps to the side of the entrance as he follows her inside. The door slams and she grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him down for a brief passionate kiss. As she does, the raptor claw pokes her in the sternal notch and she withdraws quickly. “You glad to see me Lieutenant or, is that a pickle on you neck?” “Oh that, Sorry Ma’am”. He pulls the Raptor claw out. “Damned souvenir!” “What a coincidence, I just happen to have one of those myself.” “You know, this could be misconstrued as fraternization!” Well Ma’am, as I see it, we earned these little trophies!” “So when all this excitement is over, what are your plans?” She takes on a deep look of consternation and is silent for a moment. “Well, I wanted to get checked off on an a Hornet and maybe apply for the Astronaut Corps but now, I just want to make it through all this in one piece!” “If anyone makes it out of here, it’ll be you!” “You in your Big Gunship are pretty safe but, the trick is, keeping us safe on the ground where these things live.” “You should change your call sign to ‘Guardian Angel’!” She returns her dog tags and raptor claw back into her flight suit but, has trouble clearing her hair. He reaches up and helps her settling his hands around her face and kissing her sweetly. “I’ll think about that Lieutenant.” “Changing your call sign?” “No, that kiss, while I’m up there covering your butt!” “That’s good enough I guess.” She turns to leave and he stands there grinning like a school boy. A dreamy look comes over his face and he heads out the door to rejoin his unit.

     Cat calls and laughter greet him and he smiles and laughs it off. “You haven’t got a clue do you?” Poindexter is chuckling and shaking his head. Ramirez chimes in. “Sir, you gotta clean up your act!” He is motioning to his mouth as Carter realizes there is lipstick on his face. T-Boy asks. “Cut yourself shaving sir?” Everyone erupts into laughter and Carter sheepishly wipes his mouth and face as he blushes and tries to regain his composure. “Alright you clowns, everyone take up your assignments.” Lucy and T-Boy swap a high five and saunter off into the darkness. Poindexter stands back and awaits Carter’s lead.   Ramirez climbs an access ladder to the roof of the building and hauls his gear behind him.

    Parts of the lab are still damaged and lights are low. Chewy retrieves a flashlight and makes her way through the darkened halls. Finding the break room, she rummages through the cabinets to find something to fill her hungry stomach. She spies a home-labeled jar of strawberry jam. She picks it up and opens the jar to smell the contents. The aroma is delicious! She closes her eyes as a smile crosses her lips, remembering a care package from home. She begins reminiscing over as her days as a farmer's tomboy daughter, sharing strawberries with on old boyfriend.

     While trying to fashion a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she is startled by the sound of heavy claws striking the roof and, drops the glass container of strawberry jam and it shatters and stains the surrounding floor. Frantic to clean up her mess, she fails to detect the approaching raptor that jumps at her knocking her to the floor. She draws her sidearm and instinctively takes a defensive posture. She squeezes off two quick rounds striking the beast in the chest and shoulder causing it to stagger back a few steps.

     She loses her balance falling into the spilled jam, covering her hands neck and face with the bright red sticky gel. Shaking off the impacts of the bullets, the enraged beast regains its composure and assumes a squatting stance as if preparing to pounce with a raging vengeance. Chewy is clambering backwards on her hands and feet away from the beast trying to gain her footing. She reaches out for a nearby cleaning cart and knocks it over between herself and her attacker. She raises her pistol again as the creature bends over the cart to bite. With jaws agape, the raptor lunges forward as Chewy squeezes off three quick rounds down its throat. It falls limp over the cart.

     Another Raptor drops through a Plexiglas skylight shattering it also lands on the dead raptor. Tim and Lex hear the commotion down the hall as they too were heading for a snack. Landing on the cart brings a windfall of good luck for Chewy. One of the raptor’s claws has punctured a plastic jug of chlorinated cleaning solution. Stepping down off the cart, the creature’s tangled foot causes it to stumble. It raises its foot high in the air and attempts to shake off the tangled jug. This serves only to splatter the solution in its face and head. Tim and Lex have reached the door of the break room and witnesses the event unfold.

     Chewy gains her footing and jumps tables to reach the door. She turns to fire when she sees the cleaner begin to do its work on the raptor. She throws her free arm up in front of Tim and Lex to prevent Tim and Lex from entering the room.   Tim’s curiosity replaces his fear for a moment as he watches the reaction of chemicals on the dying creature. Lex is also mesmerized at the site. More raptors gather around the skylight. Chewy loudly orders them to get out the area and they leave in a sprint.

     Tim and Lex run down the hall discussing the possibilities of the weaponization of chemicals to combat the creature by what they have just witnessed. Our young female marine is following close behind with short bursts of gunfire to stop any pursuing raptors. More creatures break through the fences killing a few of the marines. Lex stops to save a fallen young marine. “Can you hear me?” She sits on the floor and takes the young soldier’s head in her lap. He is spitting up blood. There is a gaping wound in his chest from a raptor strike. She wipes the blood from his lips and strokes his forehead. He reaches for his jacket breast pocket and tries to open it. Lex opens it for him and finds a picture of his parents and himself at his boot camp graduation. “Please tell them I tried.” His eyes lose focus and become fixed in death. He dies in her arms.

     The lead marine with orders to destroy the lab makes his way to a room containing some of the charges. After dispatching several creatures himself, he comments on the stench of bleach and the noticeable absence of creatures near the charges. Seemingly everywhere else throughout the complex, raptors are attacking and gunshots fill the night air along with the screams of man and raptor alike. Small explosions from grenades and fires break out as the battle ensues.

     Ramirez is racking up an impressive score of dead creatures until he runs out of ammunition and resorts to using his high-tech sniper rifle like a club to beat raptors off the edge of the rooftop. He resorts to his side arm and drops another creature with a solid head shot. He scrambles down an access ladder to a lower rooftop and jumps through a skylight. Advancing through the hallways of the same building, Poindexter and T-Boy charges in the room and begins to sniff loudly. “I haven’t smelled that odor in a long time!” “It smells like someone’s tryin’ to clean the shithouse on a shrimp boat in here!” Poindexter replies, “More like the men’s room in a truck stop!”

     He informs the couple of an approaching cruise missile loaded with nuclear warheads. Ramirez crashes through the skylight and lands at their feet. Shaking off the impact, the two marines rush to his side and begin checking him for injuries. Polo grins and replies, “it was getting a little ugly out there so I thought I’d drop in on you guys.”       Their radios crackle and instructions are received to rendezvous at the rear loading area for rescue by helicopter. Poindexter acknowledges the order and everyone gathers up the remaining staff for the escape.

     Tim and Lex have broken away from the group and make their way back to the lab. Tim tells Lex. “I need to get back to my console.” “I have an idea but first I have to see if it will work.” They make it back inside the computer lab with no raptors following them. Tim loads the program and puts on his virtual manipulation gear. Carter yells out to the team. “Where the hell did they run off to?” Poindexter replies.   “Hell, I thought they were right behind me.” “Go check the computer lab again!” Carter orders.

     Our two scientists are working frantically at computer consoles. Tim is wearing a virtual reality visor and gloves while manipulating a DNA molecule and attaching it to hypochlorite molecules and observing the denaturing of the DNA strand. “That’s it!” “The Hypochlorite molecule is breaking down the strand and killing the raptors!” “We don’t need pure chlorine to kill them.” “We just need enough to make the hypochlorite molecule!” “English dude, speak English!” Carter replies. Poindexter pulls the visor off Tim’s face and orders, “We have to go NOW!” Our scientist are again attacked while working on their calculations and save each other Tim stumbles backwards as a raptor jumps through a window in the lab. He slides backwards until he strikes a wall. He looks up to see a fire extinguisher and pulls it down. He quickly tears the inspection tab and pin. He aims it at the creature and fires the CO2 until it is empty. The beast retreats and is gone.

     Lex runs into a table and is caught mid waist causing her to fall and slide over it. Her overnight bag is knocked over and its contents spilled onto her on the other side of the table. A can of hair spray falls out and strikes her on the head. A raptor jumps up on the lab bench and snarls won at her. She sees the flickering flame of a Bunsen burner at the raptor’s feet. She pops the lid off of the can and sprays it over the flame. The raptor is swallowed in the rising fireball and leaps back out of the room. It runs with a characteristic gait still carrying flames and smoking as it escapes.   Outside the windows of the lab the night sky is lit up by search lights from an approaching CH53 and CH 47 Chinook sent in to rescue the survivors.

     Lex is heading out the door and stops to open a janitorial closet. She grabs a couple bottles of chlorinated cleaners and orders everyone to splash it on themselves. Tim sees a garden sprayer lying on its side near the exit door and grabs it up. He stops by a faucet and begins filling the canister and shouts for Lex to bring the remaining bleach. He adds the bleach and closes the container then shakes it and pumps up the pressure. He slings the carry strap over his shoulder and tests the spray nozzle and adjusts the pattern. “We got some raptor medicine now!” Carter and Chewy grab up weapons and ammo from fallen marines and load up.

     Running to the rendezvous area, they are flanked by more raptors. They begin spraying bullets and bleach as the creatures disperse wildly. Some are stopped by the overwhelming scent of the chlorine and a couple creatures charge recklessly at the group and are overcome by the chlorine fumes falling to the ground in seizure like fits coughing and drowning in their own blood. A few are handily dispatched by the sharpshooting marines.

     Tim stops to pump the sprayer pressure back up when a raptor leaps at him. It knocks the sprayer spinning on its side out of reach of our fallen scientist. The container rolls down the inclined driveway and strikes a hydrant splitting open and spilling its contents down the asphalt. T-Boy unloads his pistol into the raptor’s head, dropping it in a sprawling posture. It lands just inches from Tim who is regaining his feet.  

     Chewy breaks away from the group with her gunner and sprints to her ship. They open their canopies and jump into their seats. Chewy gets her canopy closed as a raptor thrusts its head into the cockpit and grabs her gunner by the forearm and begins trying to rip him from his seat. Chewy instinctively pulls her side arm and pointblank places three rounds into its eye. The raptor falls away and the gunner retrieves his bloodied arm inside and manages to close his canopy glass. Chewy quickly starts the gunship’s turbine engines and lifts off as warning lights throughout cockpit sound off. The raptor lies balanced on the skid for a few feet then slides to the ground in a loud thud.

     After clearing the ground, she rapidly goes through the controls and silences the alarms. They rise to a safe height and she begins to survey the area below for threats. “How we doin’ up there Junior?” The co-pilot is ripping bandage material from his flight suit and wrapping his wounds. Been better Ma’am but, I think my flying days are over.” He observes the compound fracture of his wrist and the shredded exposed tendons of his wound. “Looks like I’m just a passenger on this ride.” “Sorry.” That’s fine; just keep me from driving us into the ground.

     As she climbs for altitude, Chewy calls out to Junior. “Can you work the guns?” “Junior!” There is no answer. She strains to look over the seat and sees that her co-pilot has passed out. She takes full control of weapons and avionics and starts looking for targets. She heads toward the spot that she separated from the group. She notices the other Apache gunship partially covered by rubble. There are a couple raptors near the Apache and she cleanly picks them off like shooting at an arcade gallery. The team on the ground is still making their way to the open lot while raptors encircle them but somehow remain at a safe distance. The bleach scent is working!

     Carter is directing survivors to the evacuation helicopter he sees Chewy land nearby. He runs to her ship thinking something has brought her down. She sets the skids on the pavement and leaves the rotors running. Carter waits at her canopy and looks over at her co-pilot. Chewy jumps out from her seat and hollers above the turbine noise. “Let’s get him on that Evac.” “He’s lost a lot of blood!” Carter reaches inside and removes his seatbelt harness. He throws Junior over his shoulder and sprints to the waiting CH-53. As he approaches the side of the big ship, the gunner motions for him to drop. Carter squats with Junior still on his shoulder and the gunner unleashes a burst from his min-gun, obliterating the chasing raptor in mid-leap.” Carter heaves his fallen pilot into the door and the crew chief reaches for his hand. Carter hears Chewy yell from behind and turns to see her being stalked by two more creatures. He takes aim and places solid hits in each of the raptors’ heads, dropping them in their tracks. He signals the crew chief to take off and turns to run at Chewy.

     He feels something hit him in the back. He looks down and sees a sidearm spin on the ground. Looking back at the door gunner, he sees him signaling to pick it up. Carter waves thanks to the door gunner and sprints over to Chewy.

     Another low hovering Blackhawk sent in to evacuate survivors is attacked by over a dozen raptors that seem to gladly sacrifice themselves into the spinning rotor blades to bring it down. Most of the survivors have already boarded the larger transports and taken off. The Blackhawk hits the ground and spins wildly for a moment. The crew has survived but, are injured and have difficulty escaping the downed aircraft. A raptor makes a run at the downed helicopter but is caught by the last spins of the broken rotor and neatly decapitated. The crew make their way out of the wreckage and onto the waiting Super Stallion.

     Carter reaches Chewy as she climbs back into her seat. “Get in and buckle up!” Carter stands hesitant for a moment and asks. “What the hell am I supposed to do?” “I’ve never flown in one of these things before!” “Just leave the flying to me and get your ass in!” He climbs into the front seat and clumsily buckles in as Chewy spools up the engines. Carter’s canopy falls and closes from the rotor wash. He is fumbling with the helmet and trying to figure out how to wear it. He gets the chinstrap part right and finally settles back in the seat. Trying to adjust his seat, he accidentally pulls on the collective causing the gunship to bounce wildly. Chewy yells out. “Don’t touch that!” “Let go!” Chewy begins giving him instructions and Carter never notices they are already off the ground and heading up over the lab buildings. Carter grabs the stick in front of him and Chewy yells out. “Don’t touch that either!” She recovers easily from Carter’s input on the cyclic and hurls the gunship forward to gain altitude and a position she can reassess the battlefield below. “Don’t touch anything, just ride!” Carter crosses his arms over his chest trying to follow her orders to the letter.

     Realizing he is hundreds of feet in the air, Carter grabs the sides of the cockpit and holds on for dear life. He feels a wave of nausea flood over him as Chewy banks steeply to circle the area from above. She executes a nose down pirouette driving the craft forward and gaining G-forces on the both of them. Carter is terrified and throws both hands up to the canopy handles. Chewy calms him down and they level out for a hover. “You gotta trust me boy!” “I’ve been doing this a while now.” “Just think of it as a roller coaster without tracks.” Carter mumbles under his breath. “I hate roller coasters!” Carter settles back down and places his hands on his thighs. “Where to next?” He asks. Chewy makes a gentle turn and spots a group of marines on the ground heading out of the refrigeration section of the labs. Down there at 10 O’clock.” “See those marines?” Carter forces himself to look out the canopy window and spots the group running from the building. “Yeah!” “Wait!” “That’s the demo team.” “Looks like they’re buggin’ out.” “We shouldn’t be here.” “If they’re running like that.” “It means they’re about to,,,”

     Rampant explosions begin erupting from the roof until they reach the main charges destroying nearly the entire lab and most of the remaining vehicles. One Apache Gunship is partially covered in some rubble but not too damaged.   A flying piece of debris strikes the gunship and disables an engine. Parts fly from the Apache as more debris and fire engulf the big gunship. Warning lights and alarms begin to sound. The right engine stops dead in its spinning and parts explode out of the cowl. The engulfing fireball is sucked into the left engine stalling the compressor vanes and quickly kills it as well. The rotors flutter and the craft gyrates wildly to the right.

     Chewy stands almost straight up on the left rudder pedal to keep the nose in line. She holds back on the cyclic and pumps up and down on the collective to flare the helicopter for auto-rotation lift. The nose falls and the big gunship begins to dive to the ground. She fights the plummet with intermittent collective and cyclic inputs and finally sets the apache down on the field. The successful landing, although a little hard, saves them both. Carter is still holding on to the canopy as Chewy releases her restraints and half climbs, half jumps from her seat. She unlatches Carter’s canopy and yells out for him to hit the emergency release on his seatbelts and get out. He is somewhat disoriented from the ordeal but, manages to follow her instructions. Climbing out hand over hand, his foot snags the weapons trigger on the cyclic control and a short burst of 30 mm cannon fire shoots the front left skid support off the craft.

     Standing upright on solid ground, the two stare at each other for a moment finally realizing they are safe for the time being, burst out in uncontrollable laughter. Chewy grabs Carter by the lapel and jerks him in close for a hard pressing kiss. She spots the other apache sitting close by over his shoulder and pushes away. She grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around. She slaps him hard across the butt and says. “There’s our ticket out of here.” “Let’s go!”

     They run to the helicopter and begin throwing debris off. After they have cleared the machine, she and Carter climb in and strap in. She helps him get situated and instructs him on the things she needs him to do and most importantly not to do, or touch! She hooks up his helmet and switches on his comms. She reaches up four the canopy handles and pulls them down. Stopping half way, she grabs his chinstrap and plants another big kiss on his lips with the words, “I got this!” She latches his canopy down and climbs into her own seat in the rear. No raptors are present in the area and she calmly goes through the start-up procedures. The sun is cresting over the mountains and all raptor activity has seemed to stop. Carter asks. “Where are we going?”   Chewy angrily replies. “Hunting!”

 

 

** Final Solution **

 

 

     A B-1-B bomber closes in from over the Desert Mountains, the pilots discuss the situation and ask how they can attack an enemy they can't see on radar. They look at the file photos of the creatures again shake their heads in disbelief. They feel the weight of their responsibility. It is a heavy burden. They ponder if they are doing the right thing as they approach San Diego to release their deadly payload sending them streaking towards the target. With screaming engines winding up their turbines, the cruise missiles prepare to launch.

     The silence in headquarters is broken by the alert, “Arrows Away!” Two nuclear-armed Tomahawk Missiles escape their bomb bay bindings and are "set free" in flight towards their target. They free-fall for a few yards beneath the bomber and briskly snap their wings out taking flight.   The radar casts its rudiment green screen outlining the shoreline of San Diego and tracks the progress of the missiles' flight.

     A young marine works frantically with his k-bar to strip wires and revive a stricken helicopter's radio as the missiles' close in. The crew of the bomber begins their count down and calls out closing distance back to command as the missiles scream over their position at the animal park. The mayday from the demolition squad goes out and within minutes, a helicopter arrives to rescue the team.

     On board the earlier helicopter that rescued Tim and Lex, they notice they are heading east. “Why are we heading east over the mountains?” Tim asks.   The crew chief yells into his microphone loudly. “To escape the blast and EMP burst from the nukes.” Tim is shocked. “The Nukes?!” “Yes sir, we’re cleaning up the area with a couple nukes to eliminate the threat!” Tim replies. “That’s insane!” “There’s still thousands of people in the area!” “General Strothers says it’s the only way to sterilize the area.” The crew chief responds. Lex shouts into her microphone. “He can’t do that!” “We have the solution!” “We have to stop them, we have to stop the bombs!” Tim grabs the crew chief and explains that they need to talk to general Strothers now! The crew chief tells the pilot that the scientists need to communicate directly with command.

     The pilot makes the call and General Strothers is put on the mic. “This is General Strothers; go ahead with your transmission.” Tim is unfamiliar with radio protocol and begins giving detailed scientific information to the general. General Strothers responds. “English man, speak in plain English!” “Call off the nukes general, Call off the nukes!” “We found the solution!” “The raptors are easily killed with an 8 to 1 ratio of water and bleach!” “It denatures their DNA and dissolves them from the inside out!” “We have the data and it works!” Call off the nukes!”

     General Strothers hears the incoming messages from the scientists and marine and seconds before ground zero detonation, orders are given, aborting of the mission. The bomber crew confirms the abort codes with command and disarm the warheads.

     A group of raptors pauses from their ravenous feeding on the dead pilot whale to look up, as the missiles streak overhead. The tomahawks are diverted at the very last second. They climb suddenly and turn to head offshore.

     As the Tomahawks soar off over distant waters passed San Diego flying directly overhead of the "Sea World" sign and moments later, crash harmlessly, undetonated into the sea. Cheers go up in Command headquarters and a plan to "chlorinate" the creatures is formed. Communications begin to be transmitted all over the airwaves and even over public broadcasting to inform everyone on how to combat the creatures.

 

** Living to fight another day **

****

 

     A convoy, led by a string of Humvees with black SUV’s in the middle are guarded by another line of heavily armed Humvees makes its way down the deserted highway toward the InGen facility. An Apache gunship flies overhead in air support. Following behind, a convoy of Bradley Fighting vehicles and Stryker Vehicles gives chase. They are on a rescue mission to the detainment center. The Governor asks Bilkes in the back seat of a Humvee, “How much damned further?” The military driver interjects, “About six clicks Sir!” “Speak English damnit!”, “About 4 miles sir!” Bilkes sits silently as raptors appear in the road.   Cowering behind the shoulder of the young marine sitting next to him, Bilkes gasps a loud whimper. Several creatures are unceremoniously run over as the convoy careens down the interstate towards their goal. The Humvee bounces as it passes over bodies and Bilkes begins to cry childishly.

     As the snaking convoy turns onto an exit for the InGen complex, there are several vehicles fully involved in flames blocking their way. While the convoy comes to a halt to assess the blockage, one of the Bradley vehicles pulls up and a radio message blares overhead. “I got this sir, cover you heads!” A few short bursts from the 30 mm Bushmaster gun makes short work of the blockage and the convoy proceeds through the scattered debris. More flaming heaps ahead are targeted by the overhead apache gunship. The Apache pilot radios in, “Ploughing the road for you guys!” Comes the radio traffic and hellfire missiles explode ahead of them and clear the cluttered streets of blocking vehicles. LAV’s roll through the remaining wreckage and make a path for the rest of the convoy.

     Some vehicles roll to the side, some are flipped in the air like a toddler throwing a toy and some simply vanish in fireballs with nothing recognizable left. Hordes of creatures are alerted to the sounds of the explosions and join up to investigate in a chaotic mass formation reminiscent of a herd of Cape buffalo. Several packs break off as they near the convoy and take up positions around upper levels of the complex. Clicking chatter and growling vocalizations emit from every creature. The familiar “Raptor Bark” (heard in the kitchen scene of JP) sends groups of creatures in different directions as one creature looks at the convoy turning its head as if to be thinking about its next move.

     An apache pilot radios down. “Sir, I’m picking up movement all over the place but no IR signatures!” “There’s some sort of shimmering light waves moving in multiple locations around you but not visible on any of our instruments!” “What are your orders sir?” “If it’s NOT us, kill it!” “Yes sir, engaging!” Enroute to the scene, Chewy and her new gunner overhear the transmission. Chewy smiles and comments, “This ought to be interesting!”, She says to her gunner.

     The Gunner speaks to the pilot in their off-air intercom. “Sir!, I don’t like this shooting blind shit in daylight!” “Look at it this way, Just clean up the air around them!” “If it’s not hot on IR then, any movement is them.” “Oh!, I See.” The 30mm chain gun sings out its rat-tat-tat-tat and clouds of smoke, dust, debris and a blue fog begin to eerily fill the air. After eradicating most of the threats on the ground, the pilot calls in on his com channel. “I’m Winchester on 30 and low on fuel. Heading back to base to top her off and return.” Chewy responds with, “I’m 2 minutes out and topped off”. Go back and reload while we keep everybody company.” The two gunships pass as the pilots salute each other. Following close behind Chewy are several Blackhawks full of ground troops. Carter is leading the infantry strike.

 

     Back at the InGen compound, a group of creatures is scouring the old stadium. A few are scurrying along the lower levels and discover the entrance doors where the tractor trailers pass through. A guard dressed in a raptor suit investigates and is confronted by a creature. The creature stands curiously gazing at the imposter not quite sure what to do. Another creature steps up and stops to stare at the oddly clad raptor. “Man that is one cool ass uniform you got there!” “I love those special effects!” “When do I get that issue?” With that, the raptor pounces and shreds the guard to pieces.  

     With the huge door now open, they enter and find other guards dressed similarly, they make short work of them. Another guard draws his sidearm and Taser. The two raptors advance quickly and he pulls the trigger. The Taser darts fly unwinding their wires and sink home in the raptor’s neck. The other raptor leaps over its downed companion at the guard. The guard gets off a couple poorly placed shots into its upper and lower legs. Even wounded, the raptor is deadly and reaches the guard with its murderous claws. Licking its wounds, the beast is startled as the tazed creature rises to its feet. The gunshot raptor stumbles backwards and its clawed foot steps directly into the trigger guard of the Taser. The instantaneous charge of 50,000 volts run down the wires that have wrapped behind its ankle knock both creatures to the ground. Three soldiers step up and witness the sight of the creatures going down. They open fire on the raptors and the spasms stop.

     Other creatures now enter the lower tunnels and begin their murderous hunt through the complex. A guard lies dead and half-eaten near a barred cell door and a detainee reaches out and grabs the anklet key and cell keys from his utility belt along with his weapon. The creatures jump at the barred cell doors but are unable to enter. They are distracted by running guards and take chase. The detainee removes his anklet and passes the key on to others. When the creatures have left the area, he opens the cell door and ushers several others through. They scavenge weapons from fallen guards and make their way to the parked tractor trailers and load up. As many detainees as possible get inside the big trailer, while others climb on top of the cabs and trailers. With the massive weight the large springs flatten out and groan under the strain. The thin top of the trailer buckles in at places and inside support member snap under the stress. One detainee falls through a plastic dome skylight partially and his legs dangle while he is trapped in the small opening. A creature leaps at the rear of the trailer clearing the top edge. It tears and rips at the trapped man and within moments rips the upper part of his body free.

     From underneath, inside the trailer, blood pours out in huge quantities and his entrapped legs fall to the floor and kick as it still trying to run. Other creatures jump at the sides of the thin-walled trailer burying their claws deep into the shiny black box. A few detainees crammed against the wall scream as they too are penetrated by the razor-sharp talons. One man’s face is silent as a look of disbelief comes over his face. He slumps to the floor exposing the great gash in the wall behind him and the fileted appearance of his back as he falls lifelessly to the floor.

     They manage to start the big diesel engines and draw the attention of the creatures, which turn and charge them with a fury. They manage to run over several of them and continue to the exit. “What about the rest of our friends?” “They’ll be fine as long as they stay in their cells. Let’s get the hell out of here!” Several more creatures are mowed down as they careen through the underground tunnel of the complex and onward to daylight and the outside world. They emerge only to find that the world around them has been left a smouldering chaos as bands of creatures attack their truck. Turning into the street, the convoy of semis run headlong into a Bradley fighting vehicle as it begins to fire on creatures in the area and then trains its guns on them.

     They come to a stop and watch in horror as the guns begin blazing in their direction but the guns are not aimed at them but the creatures closing in around them. A soldier pops up out of the turret and waves them through.   There are several creatures clinging onto the back of the trailer and are picked off by the soldiers as they pass. The big rig comes to a stop just beyond the Bradley and then they tell them about the others trapped in the INGEN complex.   The soldier drops back down inside and radios in the Intel. Several other Bradley’s and strikers converge on the area and they begin their convoy towards the complex.

     The detainees in the truck start heading towards the border and eventually arrive in their villages only to find the same results. “What the hell were those things?” “Those are the real Chupacabre!”

     More soldiers arrive in the INGEN compound to find creatures feeding on the bodies of guards dressed in odd raptor uniforms and some guards have even locked themselves in the cells with the detainees to escape their attackers. Some were being tazed with their own weapons and a few having been thrown out to the ravenous creatures torn to shreds. The soldiers make quick work of most of the creatures but even a few soldiers fall prey to the stealthy ones. Even more creatures arrive to keep the teams busy while they try to free the detainees. From the Harbor side of the complex, amphibious assault vehicles unload marines in groups and continue clearing the complex.

     The governor steps out of the Humvee with the other marines but Bilkes remains behind in the vehicle. Angrily and with a sense of conviction, the governor hollers back at Bilkes. “Get your ass out here and give us a hand!” Turning his attention back to the fight, he mumbles under his breath. “Chicken shit bureaucrats!”   He takes a cigar out of his pocket and charges his M4 strolling towards the stadium. Bilkes stumbles out and fumbles with a helmet given to him by his marine attendant. The soldier shows him how to fasten the chin strap and hands him a rifle after putting a magazine in it and charging the first round. The officer leading the convoy calls for the marines to form up on him and Bilkes is left standing alone. The gunfire begins and marines disperse. Soon the bigger weapons are firing and Bilkes looks around completely bewildered. He throws his weapon in the front seat and climbs back into the back seat to wait out the skirmish.

     Hordes of creatures continue attacking and devastating large parts of San Diego. Murderous bands of raptors are pouring through the streets and nothing alive is left in their wake. Faithful dogs guarding the bodies of their slain owners are cut down with vicious lashes of raptor claw strikes as the creatures clamber over everything. A police station is reduced to a flame-gutted shell and a wallet badge comes to a stop from its spinning fall with the name barely discernible under the soot and blood, (Malcolm) (serving since 1993).

     Nearby in a Navy dock railroad yard, a worker is unhooking cars as he is attacked by a raptor. He struggles up a ladder and hangs on to a valve wheel of a chlorine car. As the raptor rips and pulls at his legs, he opens the wheel valve on the car and chlorine gas is released. The resulting greenish-brown gas cloud subdues scores of marauding raptors and saves a church full of Hispanic and non-Hispanic worshipers that are praying for salvation. Every candle in the church is lit. The lady of Guadalupe sits at the center of the shrine behind the altar. Next to it is a statue of St. George slaying a dragon beast underfoot. Apache helicopters rise in over the surrounding smoke and dust to begin mopping up all the creatures in the nearby area. The group leader is a female pilot call sign "Den Mother". An A-10 Warthog loitering overhead picks up targets of opportunity. Setting up together, they begin their deadly dance in the sky. They can see the cooler bodies of the raptors against the heat of the fiery devastation in their infra-red sights. Lining up on their gun runs brings a group of raptors in a row. The massive GAU 8 cannons turn them into spray and dust. Follow up rounds walk past the front doors of the police department kicking up chunks of asphalt and concrete.

     Two shotgun blasts clear all glass from the racked double doors of precinct headquarters. Crawling out of the debris, Malcolm makes his way down the street. His clothes are all but ripped from his body. He looks down to see his badge wallet lying in the street. He folds the wallet and sticks half of it in the elastic of his briefs. His shoes are intact and except for his underwear and shredded shirt, he is pretty much naked. He pumps his shotgun and loads the magazine to capacity and walks down the war-torn street from his precinct. A raptor is standing in a store front display devouring its prey. It stops momentarily to look up at Malcolm. Without breaking stride, Malcolm raises his shotgun and sends a load of buckshot into the raptor’s face. He continues his stroll past the bodies and raptors. Two smaller and younger raptors run at him through the same store front and each gets a dose of the deadly double ought buckshot. They lay kicking on the sidewalk like freshly decapitated chickens. A convoy of marines led by an LAV-25 stop and picks him up.

 

** Back In the Saddle Again **

 

 

     Sitting on a remote desert runway, old but flight-worthy Vietnam museum pieces sit in different stages of repair. Managed by a retired Marine Corps flight leader (Sam Elliot), the aircraft travel around the country for exhibitions. Call sign “Dusty”, the retired pilot has been monitoring HAM radio and encrypted military radio traffic) at Amboy airport near 29 Palms. Members of the antique squadron are manned by retired Marine Corps pilots living in the surrounding area.

     Walking through a busy hangar Dusty greets several of his friends who are busy working on different restoration projects. He is one of the happy souls and relishes opportunities to share their battle stories with others at any chance. This morning he is somewhat concerned. There are news stories and HAM radio conversations about mysterious attacks leaving folks dead and missing. He carries a morning newspaper in his hand and an empty coffee cup. He enters his office and drops the paper on his desk. He steps to a kitchen sink and rinses out his old and worn Marine Corps mug and loads it up with water for a quick run through the microwave. The oven dings its alarm and Dusty pulls out a hot cup of water. Pours a teaspoon of instant coffee and a couple teaspoons of creamer in it and stirs while listening to his TV set.

     There is a large shelf full of manuals, magazines and books with a TV set shoved in the midst of the clutter. There a couple small shadow boxes adorning the shelf with medals he’s acquired over his career. They flank several trophies for pistol marksmanship including his prized Marine Corps All Service championship he won the year of his retirement. On the television set reports of raptor attacks are in all the breaking news bulletins. One channel’s reporter is interviewing a Hispanic woman on a stretcher with her daughter near a roadside stand. Soldiers and police are surveying the carnage in the background.

     He turns on his HAM radio and waits for it to warm up. There are a few operators on the airways discussing recent events and conjecturing the sources and validity of the news. A few conversations discuss conspiracy theories and the chatter feeds on itself from there.   Dusty sits back to read his paper while keeping and ear on the radio and T.V. at the same time. One news report shows a news helicopter circling over the scene of the unexplained attack at the Nobel Peace prize ceremony. He cues in on the video and an old familiar face pops up on his screen.

     It is Colonel Cross. Dusty was Cross’s flight commander when he first came out for combat on a Search and Rescue team near the end of the Viet Nam war. Cross flew a Jolly Green Giant on several downed pilot rescue missions with Dusty and even pulled Dusty out of the jungle once. He looks to the top of his shelves and stares an old flight helmet with a bullet hole in the side. A smile crosses his lips as he recalls the rescue and tells Cross. “You are the only man I know with Brass balls as big as mine. Cross was wounded twice and managed to rescue Dusty and make it back to base before anyone even knew he was hit.

     Dusty’s mind drifts back for a moment.   He is at the controls of his “Sandy” over the jungles of North Viet Nam. He has just witnessed a pilot raised from the jungle on a penetrator hook dropped out of a MM-53 Jolly Green giant rescue helicopter. The pilot of the “Jolly” is Lieutenant Cross (call sign ‘Dizzy’).   As he makes a pass by the helicopter, he notices a mobile antiaircraft gun taking position on a jungle trail nearby and decides to take it out. He has plenty of fuel and ammo left so he climbs for a better view and angle of attack. He notices a group of ground troops around the mobile unit and decides to deploy his last napalm bomb. Rolling in on his target, he ignores the few ground troops on the jungle trail below. He calls his wingman to follow up his attack. “Hey ‘Cowboy’, we got a portable gun down here we need to clean up.” “Roger ‘Dusty’, I got ‘em down our 2 O’clock there.” “Roger, that’s him.” “Let’s light him up.” “I got one napalm left with his name written all over it.” “Take lead in on me with a willy peter.” Willy Peter is the pilot’s nickname for white phosphorus munitions.” “Roger that, taking lead on your run Dusty.”

     There’s a saying among pilots and that is, “It’s the ‘golden bullet’ that gets you and nothing you can do will change that.” The golden bullet is fired from a single soldier’s rifle on the ground and strikes the Sky Raider in an engine push rod in the big radial engine. It sets off a series of events that culminate in total engine failure of the aircraft. He manages to drop his last napalm bomb and start a banking climb out of the area. Black smoke envelopes his aircraft and he pulls the stick back to climb out of the area. “Dusty, this is Cowboy, how bad you hit?” “Engine hit but, I’m fine.” “I got your six while you get her straightened out.” “Thanks Cowboy!” “I don’t know if she’s gonna make it back home this time.” “Gonna get a little altitude and check out the accommodations.”

     Climbing is a struggle for the Sandy and he only manages to turn to a low plateau in the jungle mountains and guide his ship to a clearing noticed at the last second. Too low to eject, he elects to put it down on a narrow trail. He knew there would be enemy troops nearby and calls for his ‘King ship’ to ‘give all transmissions in 180’. This is a code to reverse all answers about his positions to confuse the enemy of his exact location. His Sky Raider slides in on the muddy trail and luckily doesn’t catch fire.   Smoke is minimal and he feels he has a chance.

     He hears yelling and screaming from nearby ground troops as he climbs out of his cockpit. He slides off the side of the fuselage and takes cover under the wing. Black uniformed soldiers in their classic straw hats run towards him firing randomly in the air on their approach. He draws his side arm and takes careful aim giving the slightest of leads on the lead enemy soldier. Squeezing his trigger like he was on the practice range, he sends the first round from his .45 caliber pistol. It cleanly drops the lead combatant. The three following soldiers stop and stare for a second at the fallen comrade. He squeezes again and another drops with violent shutters. The two remaining soldiers bail off the side of the road and fire wildly at the plane. They have not yet seen the pilot hiding in the brush under the wing.

     Several groups of soldiers gather on the road out of the jungle. He hears the unmistakable roar of a Spad’s approach from overhead. It’s Cowboy making a run on his position. Many of the soldiers bail off the road back into the tall grass. A few take aim at the diving Sky raider and start to fire at it. The 4 20mm cannons make a real mess of the advancing enemy and a follow up napalm sterilizes the leftovers. Cowboy climbs back up into the low clouds and sets up for another run.

     His emergency radio crackles to life as his wingman calls out to verify he’s made it to the ground alive. He radios back. “It’s a little hot down here but I got a couple guys on their way to the pearly gates.” “How long before you guys can get me out of here?” “I’ve got a date tonight with a little ‘hotty’ in Saigon!” They ask for some authentication info and he tells them, “If I give you everything in ‘180’, it reads as follows.” “I hate flying!” My mother was born in I’d rather play He gives them the information in reverse and the wingman acknowledges. “The Jolly is still on station and we’re coming to you next.” “We have a little triple A gun to clean up first so hang in there a few minutes.” Over a nearby ridge a few small explosions erupt over the jungle and he knows his flight has just taken out the mobile gun platform he was targeting when he was hit.

     The strike of rounds hits the side of his aircraft and he sees one of the enemy standing in the trail to fire at him. He again takes slow deliberate aim with his colt commander and squeezes off another round. Knocking the enemy back several feet, he sees he has made a clean head-shot on the enemy soldier. The last one stands as if enraged and begins to randomly spray the plane with automatic fire. Dusty feels a faint burning in his face and realizes he is hit. The AK round has creased his eyebrow and, exited his flight helmet just above his right ear. Blood begins to flow over his face and he has trouble seeing his enemy for a second and wipes the blood from his face and eye.

     He has dropped his side arm and can’t find it in the dust and mud at his feet. The enemy soldier stops firing to reload another magazine in his AK-47. Dusty scrambles back on the wing of his aircraft to find his M1 carbine stashed on the side of his seat. He loses his grip on the canopy edge and falls back into the cockpit seat. He grabs the stick and notices the soldier is merely yards in front of his left wing. He squeezes down on the trigger of his control stick and the big .20mm guns return to life. The first rounds strike low at the enemy’s feet. The fuselage teeters and rocks back from the recoil of the four cannons and walk their way up the road. There is nothing left of the enemy soldier but a pink dust.

     He feels himself getting dizzy and begins to ‘grey-out’.   There is a tapping on his shoulder and the P.J. instructs him to climb out with him and get on the ‘penetrator’. He is now fully awake and rising toward the big Jolly when he hears the sound of a round ricochet off the heavy metal retrieval device. Another round strikes the P.J. in the helmet and he slumps in Dusty’s arms. Dusty throws both arms around him and hollers into his benefactor’s microphone. “P.J. hit!” “Get us the hell out of here!” He feels a sudden burning in his legs and small arms fire strikes his calves.

     The Jolly shutters above and begins to sway a few seconds in the air. The door gunner spews a red hot line of fire around them and they continue to rise and evacuate the area. Another Sandy rolls in and drops a napalm round on the crashed aircraft. “Sorry about your ship Dusty!” Bodies fly in the air as other bombs land close to the crashed Sky Raider. The big helicopter wastes no time banking out of the area and heads back to base.

     More enemy troops pour out of the surrounding jungle and gather around the downed Sky Raider. Cowboy catches a glimpse of the commotion on the ground and bails out of his escort formation. Although the Sky Raider is pretty much World War II technology, he can’t stand the thought of Dusty’s loyal steed becoming pieces of war trophy. Not to mention the still functioning cannons, he doesn’t want to leave them anything. He drops over the backside of the ridge to disguise his approach direction, he lines up for the bombing and strafing run. At the last second, he raises his nose and clears the ridge by a dangerous few feet. He squeezes off the cannons and drops his last napalm. He can almost hear the napalm explode from dropping it so low.   He know his attack is deadly and for the time being, there will be no souvenirs taken off Dusty’s Plane. After climbing enough to look back at the scene, he smiles and calls in the kill. “Hey Dizzy, tell Dusty I’m sorry about his plane.” Dizzy manages to laugh while he grimaces over the pain in his shot hand still gripping the controls.

     The Jolly Green Giant lands at its Forward Air Control base and Dusty, the Injured Co-pilot and P.J. are off-loaded onto stretchers. The pilot of the Big helicopter climbs and half falls from his cockpit door as Dusty watches from the back of the ambulance. The pilot limps to the ambulance and takes a seat near Dusty. It is Lieutenant Cross. He has taken a couple rounds to the side and shoulder and right hand but manages to walk and load himself onto the ambulance.   Dusty takes another look at the Jolly Green and notices the rotor blade tips have shred marks from all the small arms fire it endured while rescuing him. He then notices the entire ship is riddled with bullet holes.

     As one field ambulance pulls away, fire erupts under the Jolly Green Giant and within moments engulfs the entire aircraft. A few moments later, it explodes. Dusty looks up from his stretcher and tells Cross. “Sorry about your ship son.” The hulking burning craft slumps to the ground as fire consumes it completely. Cross reaches down and places his good hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “Looks like we’re all gonna make it this time sir.” That smile and face is burned into Dusty’s memory forever. The doors to the ambulance are closing then swing back open again. It’s Cowboy. “Man, you gotta quit scarin’ me like that!” Dusty smiles and replies. “I had my .45 didn’t I?” They both start laughing as a young marine runs up behind Cowboy. “Sir, we just got another call.” “Another ‘Sandy’ flyer went down 30 clicks from your last pickup.” “We’re fuelling and loading your ship now.” Cowboy looks back at Dusty shaking and tilting his head. “Gotta go get another one of you hot shots out of the weeds!” “Take care and I’ll see you when I get back.”

     While recovering in the hospital, Dusty hears stories of how the Helicopter pilot responsible for his rescue was shot up and still managed to fly him back even after the co-pilot was wounded and the aircraft damaged beyond all repair. The P.J. lived but never flew again. The crew chief died in the resulting fire and explosion.

     The mission uncovered a jungle depot that was destroyed. It was later discovered that it was a major arms depot for the North Vietnamese that was permanently put out of commission the rest of the conflict. He never saw Cross again but saw him receive a Silver Star and purple heart for his part in the rescue.

     Our retired pilot is working on a Sky raider as he hears more news alerts. The reporters are spreading the word about chlorine products to be used against the raptors. A list of suitable products streams across the screen as everyone is urged to start gathering and dispensing the chemicals for self-protection.

     Focusing back on the television set, the emergency broadcast system activates and warns of the impending danger from the raptors attacking everywhere. Officials give detailed instructions how to repel the creatures with the bleach and water mixture. Dusty grabs a pen and quickly jots down the information. Horrific sights begin flashing across the screen as video of victims and the active attacks of raptors take place. Dusty puts down his coffee cup and reaches up in the cabinet for the rum. He bites the cork out of the bottle and takes a big gulp as he watches the broadcasts. He scratches his chin and looks out at the tarmac at the planes lined up. He gets on his HAM radio and starts talking to others who have the same information. A few of offer some chemistry advice and a few are even pilots from around the area. His thoughts begin racing and his solution is short in coming to him.

     An older pilot is walking across the tarmac when Dusty asks him, “Hey, that old crop duster of yours still fly worth a crap?” “As good as the first day I got her, why?” “Then let’s make a run to the grocery store!” They jump in a truck and head to the store (to be named) and buy up every bottle of bleach they can find, along with pool chlorine etc. On the return trip back to the airstrip he tells his friend to call everybody and tell them to come to the hangar. Call after call ends the same. He looks at Dusty and tells him. “They’re already there!”

     A Mexican news crew is interviewing an old woman with English subtitles at the site of a burned out hacienda while federalies scurry about photographing and collecting evidence.

     A Sacramento station is reporting on the Governor’s recent trip to Mexico City and meeting with its President about the immigration problem faced by California and the mysterious disappearance of many illegal aliens reported by their families. A breaking news story interrupts the broadcast and the emergency warnings go out yet again.

     California and Oregon's extensive Fire plane brigades and F1-11's are enlisted to carry bleach, Chlorine gas and swimming pool granules saturating San Diego and the surrounding area eradicating the creatures. Fire departments are instructed to load their tankers with water and ‘spike’ them with whatever chlorine they can find. Police departments are advised to carry spray bottles of diluted bleach solution for self-protection. The word is spreading all over and getting out to the population.

     A wrench hits the floor of the hangar and rings like a bell as it bounces away. Dusty is latching down the last cowl cover on his beloved Sky Raider. A few others are locking down the homemade ‘bleach bombs’ to the wing rail hard points. An old water buffalo trailer outside is pumping its raptor poison into drop fuel tanks and every sort of container around for the upcoming mission. Coveralls are being bleached white and splashing is more than acceptable today. One of the pilots exclaims. “My wife worked months on restoring this flight suit for the air shows.” “She’s gonna kick my ass when I get home.

     A few of the mechanics are making homemade fuses for the bombs with modified shotgun shells, nails, pipes and springs. They test fire a few and are satisfied with their function and reliability. In another corner of the hangar, a couple old vets are making explosive charges and cooking up some gooey substance they affectionately call ‘Kung Pow jelly’. It acts as both an explosive if contained right and a Napalm substitute. Another old pilot is sitting in a corner brazing old drop tanks and canisters that once adorned the driveway and hangars. The scene is reminiscent of their furious Glory Days during their respective wars.

     The work goes on into the night. Those with less stamina find places to nap and go again. Dusty keeps the coffee going and by dawn, the planes are loaded and fuelled. The pilots gather around a large map of the area and areas are assigned to the several groups. In all, there are 17 planes ready to fly. Dusty breaks them up into groups of three and the last two; a Cessna and a Piper Cub will act as observation and relay platforms. One old pilot raises his hand and asks. “What’s the name of our squadron?” A radio is playing softly in a back corner of the Hangar. The song is “I wish they all could be California girls”. Dusty yells over to the mechanic nearest the radio. “Turn that up a second would ya?” Dusty grins and starts to chuckle. “The Bleach Boys!”

 

     Some of the old "Sandy" pilots enjoy practice strafing bands of creatures and dropping a few old bleach converted Napalm rounds on them. The detonations look like a light bulb burning out in a burst water balloon. Some go off on impact; an outdated white phosphorus bomb goes off a minute or two later, when over a dozen creatures gather around to investigate it. One pilot calls out on his radio. “If we could only use our cannons on these bastards, then it’d be a lot more fun!”

     A sheriff’s department helicopter show up on the scene and the pilot scans the channels to communicate with the odd squadron. “You boys got a license to fly those things?” Dusty answers back. “License?”

     “What the hell is a license son?” You see us flying up here don’t ya?” “Have we broken any laws?” “No skip!” “We’re glad to have the help!” “Where’d you get all that ordinance sir?” “You might say we scratched it up from pieces we found layin’ around the shop.” The sheriff’s pilot calls back. “I see your tail sports a couple ‘T’s.” “You ever do any of that in Nam?” “My dad flew double T’s over there.” “What is his call sign son?” “It was ‘Cowboy’ sir.” “He died of cancer a couple years ago.” As he throttles back his plane, Dusty wipes the tears from his eyes and after gulping hard a few times, answers the helicopter pilot. “He saved my ass more than once.” “He was my wing man.” “Find me when all this is over with son.” Remembering what he was flying for today, Dusty makes one last call to the sheriff’s helo. “Don’t forget!” “You look me up!” “Gotta go do a little house cleaning now.” “Later!” Dusty pushes the throttle back and leaves the helicopter behind. The rest of the day is uneventful and no more raptors are found. Dusty returns to base to refuel.

     Early the next morning before daylight, Dusty and another Sky Raider pilot take off in darkness. He flies without radar but, he’s used to it. He’s had many missions in the dark already. The newest thing in his plane is a GPS. He set a course for the area attacked heaviest the day before. He is betting on the raptors being creatures of habit. He plans to arrive about a half an hour before sunrise to catch any late marauders. There is a sliver of pink at his back as he passes over his target. Hues of dark blue give way to the cracking dawn as he searches for targets. He isn’t disappointed. His rag tag air force has racked up some pretty impressive numbers. He hears an estimate from the Sheriff’s Department helicopter encountered the day before of well over a hundred kills. He grins and radios back. “Not bad for a bunch of ‘Old Farts’. It’s roughly 2 O’clock in the afternoon when the group arrives back at base.

     Radio reports of our retired heroes accomplishments spread over the airways and on their return today, there is a welcoming committee of family and friends lining the runway. The local grocer has loaded a pickup truck with ice and beer and a huge BBQ is waiting for them.  The celebration goes on past sunset. Many of the fliers have already turned in for the night. They’ll be meeting up again before daylight.  They have to decide who will fly. There’s precious little fuel left. Even a few trucks, cars and even boats have been drained of fuel. There’s no more bleach or chlorine left either. Dusty sits at his desk taking a last swig of rum for the night. He is looking over maps and thinking about all the reports of attacks. He starts to draw lines all over a map. There is a pattern! Raptors won’t cross water! He scratches his bearded chin and smiles. “These damned things can’t swim!” He feverishly draws more lines on the maps and starts triangulating the data. The airport is west of the ------ river and north of the -------. “That’s why no raptors have showed up here, yet.” He also notices a pattern from the reports leaked to him by his Deputy pilot friend. There is a common area of attacks and sightings in the early morning hours. He has a plan! Walking through the party one last time for the evening, he spreads the word for most of his squadron to sleep in tomorrow. He tells them to meet up at noon tomorrow. He heads back to his office for a nap. As he walks up to the office shack, several large fuel trucks pull up and offer their help. Right behind them are tractor trailers with chlorine supplies.

     At sunrise, some small bands of the creatures make their way back to the cave full of hatching broods when they are spotted by our "sandy" pilots.   The two pilots decide not to attack but go back and reload and refuel. Daylight brings a lull in the attacks. Most of the raptors have sought refuge from the hot summer sun. Many have returned to the safety of their cave. Dusty lands at his airstrip and returns to office. He stares at the map and locates the cave. He has already saved the GPS coordinates but studies the topography of the area. Then, he notices something disturbing. The raptors have crossed water at several locations. He has already assumed they can’t swim but now he has to figure out how they’ve managed to make several deep river crossings if they originated as far south as the reports claim. He realizes there’s only one solution. They have to be crossing the bridges at night. He going to reach out to his old “Jolly Green” pilot for some Intel.

     After several frustrating calls and a few long waits on hold, he finally gets through to Colonel Cross. “Hey Dusty!” “How’ve you been?” “I hear you and your boys are still flying combat missions.” Dusty replies. “Sprayin’ for lizards.” “We’ve been tryin’ to help you guys clean out the garage with those things.” Cross answers. “We appreciate all the help.” “What can I do for you old friend?” “Well for starters, we could use any old napalm canisters of drop tanks you got laying around but, that’s not why I called.” “I’ve noticed a pattern with these things.” “They can’t swim!” “Yeah, we noticed that too but they’re still getting across somehow.” “Same way as you and me.” “Bridges!” “We found the stuff to keep them off the bridges.” Cross replies instantly. “Chlorinated pool granules?” “You’ve always been a fast learner.” “We’ve been ‘salting’ the bridges for the past two days.” “Well then, guess I called and bothered for nothing.” Dusty answers somewhat sheepishly. “Hey did you know Cowboy died a couple years ago?” The phone is silent for a few moments, then Cross answers. “Yeah, heard it might have been Agent Orange that finally got to him.” “Sad to think we might have killed our own with that stuff.” “Makes me wonder about what we’re puttin’ out there now.” Dusty then answers. “We all gotta die from something.” “Well anyway, you come see me when you can and I’ll take you up in my old Spad and show you what flying really is.” “I’ll do that Dusty!” “I’ll just do that!” They don’t say goodbye. They just hang up. Both men sit at their desks for a few minutes and recall many of the things that brought them to today. After a short quiet time of reflection, Cross picks up the phone again. “Get me the base quartermaster.” “Yes I’ll hold.”

     Gorged and sleepy, many creatures are lying around the cave floor sleeping. They fail to hear the approach of several planes from the over mountain route. The pilots plan is to approach rom behind the cave and make a climb at the crest and roll in for their drops. They have notified the military at the last minute in case their plan fails. They want the first crack at the raptors in their cave. They want to relive their ‘Glory Days’ one last time. A crop duster loaded with water and chlorine pool crystals will fly off the wing of a Sandy. The Sandy will drop a homemade napalm charge and the crop duster will spray the exit at the same time. The two remaining Sandy’s will fly the same pattern and drop the bleach bombs right into the mouth of the cave. The last crop-duster will spray any raptors trying to escape beyond the strike area. Dusty takes lead and gives the last comms check.  The rest of the volunteers check in. A perfect plan is coming to fruition for our retired heroes.

 

** The Clean-Up **

****

 

     Carter just shot a raptor from a rooftop. Its pitiful cry pierces his ears. The creature stares at him while it curls back its neck and straightens out its legs and tail one last time. Marines are scouring through rubble and buildings for survivors. An occasional shot rings out and all clears begin to flood over radios and headsets alike. It would seem that all the creatures have been eliminated. Soldiers are gathering the dead and chaplains walk through to pray over their bodies and the pieces laid to rest beside them. Tanker trucks dripping chlorinated mixes drive slowly through the area and trucks equipped with water cannons douse roofs and walls. Tractors with frontend loaders scoop up the bodies of raptors and load them into dump trucks for disposal. The scene is both celebratory and poignant all at once. The destruction is widespread and devastating but the sense of hope is the most prevalent.

     A Humvee pulls up and Maria jumps out. She is followed by Tim and Lex. An LAV pulls in behind them and drops its loading ramp. Colonel Cross steps out with the governor and General Strothers. Maria runs up to Carter and leaps into his arms. They kiss and the general clears his throat. Carter sees the officers step out of the LAV and pushing Maria back down to her feet, gives a salute and hollers “Attention on deck!” Maria spins around and gives her late salute as well. “We’ll overlook this one, won’t we colonel?” Colonel Cross grins and laughs and the governor gives a big smile with his cigar clenched tightly in his teeth. “Where are your men Carter?” Colonel Cross asks. He responds. “We’ve been separated a few times on this mission sir but, I’m sure they all made it.”

     Poindexter, Lucy and Ramirez step out of a side street from the left. They join up with the group share a long awaited feeling of relief. Carter looks around and asks. “Where’s T-boy?” The group looks around. Lucy speaks up. “Last I saw, he was pulling his K-bar out of a raptor’s head. T-boy rounds the corner carrying a pug under his arm. “I couldn’t just leave this little feller to fend for himself.” Everyone bursts into laughter. Maria takes the little dog from his arms and starts swapping kisses as she baby talks to her newfound friend. T-Boy gives Carter a dejected look. All Carter can do is shrug his shoulders with a puzzled grin.

     Night falls once more across the mountains and desert valley. For a change, it is quiet. Birds are singing again and raptors are nowhere to be seen or heard. All but a few of the creatures, each carrying a single egg are left. Bodies of raptors strewn across the desert floor lie dead or dying. The three survivors head east to take up residency in a wooded mountainside to foster another clutch of eggs.  They climb well into the tree line to find shelter for the night. A storm has been building all day and the forecast is for rain and snow at the higher elevations. The creatures are unaware of the fast dropping temperatures and succumb to the bitter cold. As the sun rises the next morning, they lie dead in a circle and the eggs have frost on them. One has cracked from freezing.

     It seems the North American velociraptor is once again extinct.

 

** Take a Deep Breath **

  

     Reports begin flooding in of their success in eradicating the creatures. Back at Military Command Centers, cheers go up as live-action video feeds show the total destruction of the enemy. Celebrations are brief among the scientists in one command center. They are surrounded by Humvees, Bradley fighting vehicles and helicopters off-loading troops. The scene is repeated all over the Mexican and Central American west coast.

     But, with an ominous tone a rare desert storm rolls in and dry lightning explodes throughout the sky. As a convoy passes a sign cautioning people of "a man, woman and child "crossing" the highway.

 

**Time for a break**

     The Shell of a rusted-out school bus and some twisted burnt wreckage of cars set nearby. Closing music from a passing Volks Wagon Cabriole with our couple and their PUG howling along, listening to the last lines of Hotel California stating, "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave". (Guitar Solo) “Wonder what we’re gonna do once we get to Cabos?” Chewy asks. “Oh, I don’t know.” “I thought we’d take in the beach and maybe go fishing.” “As long as there’s NO Iguana on the menu, I’m game for anything! They parallel and slowly pass a train pulling empty chlorine cars. The sky is red and foreboding.

     Some distance away, thunder rolls across the dry desert scene as lightning continues to strike through the desert sky illuminating the single surviving egg at the base of a Joshua tree with the forming embryo inside. It is surprisingly human in appearance. (Save the raptor claw on its hand scratching at the shell!)

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue
> 
> There are powers man may not yet if ever qualify to yield or master. God alone, holds this unimaginable power. Genetic manipulation may well be one of those powers. In the Christian – Judeo faith, God made man and the universe. God alone holds the power to create life! Man’s quest to know God appears to have been superseded by his desire to be (or more accurately) ‘Play’ God. Could there be a greater sin? Could man succeed in erasing the fundamental belief in a higher power than himself? And if man accomplishes this lofty goal, will man become God?  
> Will Man no longer exist? Is this the epitome of man's arrogance?
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer:  
> The Characters in this story are purely imaginary and in no way related to any living or real person known. Characters of the Original works by Michael Crichton and reference to the actors in any other Jurassic Park story or original film works by Steven Spielberg are merely for continuity of the story. This entire work is a tribute to that great story. Any link referenced if for enhanced entertainment purposes only.


End file.
